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I 


SERMONS 


^     ^ 
'"  ^M^^^ 


SEVERAL     SUBJECTS. 


BY  THE  RIGHT  REVEREND 

BEILBY  PORTEUS,  D.  D. 

BISHOP  OF  LONDOK. 


First  American  from  the  Ninth  London  Edition. 


HERTFORD  : 
PRINTED  FOR  OLIVER  D.  COOKE, 

BY  LINCOLN  &  GLEASON. 


1806. 


TO  THE  KING. 

SIR, 

X.  HE  only  grounds  on  which  I  can  presume  to  entreat 
Your  Majesty's  favorable  acceptance  of  this  Volume  of  Sermons 
are,  that  a  great  part  of  them  was  preached  in   Your  own  Royal 
Chapel  at  St.  James'  ;   and  that  my  intention  in  publishing  them 
■was  to  serve  (as  far  as  a  situation  of  much  labor  and  little  leisure 
would  allow)  the  cause  of  that  holy  religion,  to  which  Your  Ma- 
jesty lias  ever  approved   Yourself  a  sincere  and  cordial   friend. 
An  intention  of  this  sort,  however  feebly  executed,  will,  I  am  per- 
suaded, be  considered  by  Your  Majesty  as  the  best  and  most  be- 
coming return  I  can  make,  for  those  spontaneous  marks  of  Your 
goodness  to  me,  which  have  impressed  the  warmest  sentiments 
of  gratitude  on  the  mind  of, 
SIR 
Your  Majesty's 
Most  humble 
and  most  dutiful 

Subject,  and  Servant, 

B.  Chester. 


CONTENTS, 


SERMON  I. 

On  the  love  of  God. 
Preached  at  St.  James'  Chapel,  Feb.  10,  1774. 

Mark  xii.  30.  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  an^ 
with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind,  and  with  all  thy  strength  ;  this 
is  the  first  and  great  comina,ndinent.  p.  1 

SERMON  II. 

On  the  causes  of  unbelief. 
Preached  at  St.  James'  Chapel,  l'?72, 

John  iii.  19.  This  is  the  condemnation,  that  light  is  come  into  the  workU 
and  men  loved  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds  were  evil. 

p.  13 

SERMON  III. 

The  possibility  of  resisting    temtitation  asserted  and  proved. 
Preached  at  St.  James'  Chapel,  Feb.  1 1,   1770. 

James  i.  13.  Let  no  man  say  when  he  is  tempted,  I  am  tempted  of  God  : 
for  Cod  cannot  be  tempted  with  evil,  neither  tempieih  he  any  man.  p. 25. 

SERMON  IV. 

The  same  subject  continued^  and  the  same  text. 

Preached  at  Lambeth,  April  6,   1777. 

p.:6 

SERMON  V.  VI.  VII. 

A  summary  vieiv  of  the  natural.,  moral,  and  scrifitiiral  evidences  of 
a  future  life,  and  a  future  retributioji. 

Enlarged  from  three  sermons,  preached  at  Lambeth,   1774,  1775, 

and  1776. 

Matth.  XXV.  46.  And  these  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment ' 
but  the  righteous  into  life  eternal.  p.  48,  65  and  73 


CONTENTS.  y 

SERMON  VIII. 

On  the  advantages  of  an  academical  education. 

Preached  before  the  University  of  Cambridt^e,  on   Commence- 
ment-Sunday, July  5,  1767. 
Titus  ii.  6.     Young  men  likewise  exort  to  be  sober-minded.  p.  91 

SERMON  IX. 

jl  serious  and  devout  obsn-vatioji  of  the  Lord^s  Day  evforced. 

Preached  at  St.  James'  Chapel,  March  18,  1781. 

Peut.  v.  12.  Keep  the  Sabbath-day,  to  sanctify  it,  as  the  Lord  thy  God 
hath  commanded  thee.  ^       p.  107 

SERMON  X. 

The  doctrine  of  Christ   crucified  no  just  cause  of  offence  to  tmbc' 

lievers. 

Preached  at  St.  James'  Chapel,  March  24,   1782. 

1  Cor.  i.  22,  23,  24.  The  Jews  require  a  sign,  and  the  Greeks  seek  after 
wisdom:  but  wc  preach  Christ  crucified,  unto  tlie  Jews  a  stumbling-block, 
and  unto  the  Greeks  foolishness  ;  but  unto  them  which  are  called,  both 
Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ  the  power  of  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God. 

p.  118 

SERMON  XI. 

The  necessity  of  national  reformation. 

Preached  before  the  Lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  on  the  general 
fast,  Feb.  10,  1779. 

Jeremjah  xviii.part  of  the  11th  verse.  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  Behold  I 
frame  evil  against  you.  Return  ye  now  every  one  from  his  evil  way,  and 
nuke  your  ways  and  your  doings  good.  p.  132 

SERMON  XII. 

Christianity  vindicated  from  the  charge  of  cruelty. 

Matth.  X.  34.  Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  on  earth  :  I  come 
not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword.  p.   144 

SERMON  XIII. 

The  pacific  and  benevolent  temper  of  the  Clmstian  religion^  proved 

from  Scripture  and  from  facts. 

Preached  at  Lambeth  Chapel,  Dec.  23,  1764. 

jLuKEJi.  14.     On  earth  peace,  good-will  towards  men.  p.  159 

SERMON  XIV. 

An  immoderate  love  of  diversions  inconsistent  Kith  the  duties  of  a 

Christian. 
Preached  at  St.  James'  Chapel,  Feb.  10,  1771. 

2  Tim.  iii.  4.     Lovtri  of  pleasures  more  than  levers  of  God.  p-.   173 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  XV.  XVI. 

Universal  obedience  to  the  laws  of  Christ  necessary  to  salvation. 

Enlarged  from  one  Sermon,  preached  at  St.  James'  Chapel,  Feb. 

15,   1775. 

James  ii.  10.  Whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in-^one 
point,  he  is  guilty  of  all.  p.  181  and  197 

SERMON  XVII. 

The  civilization.)  improvei>ient,  and  conversion  of  the  A'cfro-slaves  in 

the  British  West  India  islands  recornmended. 

Preached  before  the  Incorporated  Society  for  the  propagation  of 
the  Gospelin  foreign  parts,  Feb.  23,  1783. 

X.VKE  iv.  17, 18,  19,  20.  And  there  was  delivered  unto  him  the  book  of  the 
prophet  Esaias,  and  when  he  had  opened  the  book,  he  found  the  place 
where  it  was  written. 

The  spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  he  liatli  anointed  me  to  preach 
the  Gospel  to  the  poor,  he  hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  broken-hearted,  to 
preach  deliverance  to  the  captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind,  to 
set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised  ; 

To  preacli  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord. 

And  he  closed  the  book,  and  he  gave  it  again  to  the  minister,  and  sat  down  : 
and  the  eyes  of  all  them  that  were  in  the  synagogue  were  fastened  on 
him.  p.  207" 

SERMON  XVIII. 

On  the  nature  and  the  characteristic  marks  of  a  Christiayi  friendship . 
Preached  at  St.  James'  Chapel,  March  16,  1777. 

John  xiii.  23.  Now  there  was  leaning  on  Jesus'  bosom,  one  of  his  disci' 
pies  whom  Jesus  loved.  p.  227 

SERMON  XIX. 

Cheerfidness  a  distinguishing  feature  of  the  Christian  religiov . 

Philippians  iv.  4.  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  alway  :  and  again  I  say,  Re- 
joice, p.  23S 

6ERMON  XX. 

On  the  Christian  doctrine  of  Redemfition. 

1  Cos.  i.  20-  Where  is  tlie  wise  ?  where  is  the  scribe  ?  where  is  the  dispii- 
ter  of  this  world  ?  hath  not  God  made  foolish  the  wisdom  of  this  world  ? 

p.  251 


SERMON  XXI. 

The  same  subject  continued.)  and  the  same  text. 


p.  265 


SERMON  XXII. 

Self-communion  recommended. 

Psalm  iv.  4.     Commune  with  your  own  heart,  and  in  your  chamber,  and 
be  stiU.  p.  279 


CONTENTS.  vii 

SERMON  XXIII. 

The  character  of  David,  King  of  Israel,  itn/iartially  stated. 
1  Sam.  xiii.  14.     The  Lord  hath  sought  him  a  man  after  his  own  heart, 
and  the  Lord  hath  commanded  him  to  be  captain  over  his  people,     p.  292 

SERMON  XXIV. 

Furitij  of  manners  no   less  necessary  to  a  Christiaii  character  than 
beiievolence. 

James  i.  27.  Pure  religion,  and  undefiled  before  God  and  the  Father,  is 
this,  To  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep 
himself  unspotted  from  the  world.  P-  "^^^ 

SERMON  XXV. 
Preached  at  the  anniversary  meeting  of  the  Sons  of  the  Clergy, 

May  9,    1776. 
i.  Kings   iv.  1.     Thy    servant   my  husband  is  dead,    and   thou  knowest 
that  thy  servant  did  fear  the  Lord  :  and  the  creditor  is  come  to  take  unto 
him  my  two  sons  to  be  bond-men.  P-  ^20 

SERMON  XXVI. 

Marly  piety  enforced. 
EccLESiASTEs  xii.  1.     Remembef  nov/  thy  creatcrr   in  the  days  of  thy 
youth.  P-  334 

SERMON  XXVII. 

Partial  faith  and  fiartial  obedience  not  pernntted  by  the  Christian 

religion. 

\  Kings  xviii.  21.  And  Elijah  came  unto  all  the  people,  and  said,  How 
long  halt  ye  between  two  opinions  ?  if  the  Lord  be  God,  follow  him  ; 
liut  if  Baal,  then  follow  him.  P-  344 

SERMON  XXVIII. 

Preached  before  the  House  of  Lords,  January  30,   1778. 
PsAtii  xxii .  28.  The  kingdom  is  the  Lord's  and  he  is  the  governor  among 
the  nations.  P>  -^^S 

SERMON  XXIX. 

TJie     mperior  excellence  of  Christ's  preaching,  and  the  causes  of  it 

explained, 

Luke  iv,  32.  And  they  were  astonished  at  his  doctrine  ;  for  his  word  was 
with  power.  P-  366 

SERMON  XXX. 

Preached  at  the  yearly  nneeling  of  the  Charity  Schools  in  the 
Cathedral  Church  of  St.  Paul,  May  2,   1782. 

Luke  vii.  22.  Then  Jesus  answering,  said  unto  them,  Go  your  way,  and 
tell  John  what  things  ye  have  seen  and  heard,  how  that  the  blind  see,  the 
lame  walk,  the  lepers  arc  cleansed,  the  deaf  hear,  the  dead  are  raised,  to 
vh«  poor   the  jospel  is  preached.  P-  375 


viii  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  XXXL         e 

The  government  of  our  passions  an  indispensable  duty. 

I  Cor.  ix.  25.  Every  man  that  striveth  for  the  inasteiy  is  temperate  in  all 
things.  Now  they  do  it  to  obtain  a  corruptible  crown,  but  we  an  in- 
corruptible, p.  388 

SERMON  XXXir. 

The  character  of  our  Lord-,  as  delineated  in  the  Gospel,  one  convin- 
cing proof  that  he  was  the  Son  of  God. 
Matthew  xxvii.  54.    Truly  this  was  the  Son  of  God.  p.  398 

SERMON  XXXIIL 

Preached  at  St.  Paul's,  on  the  Thanksgiving-day  for  his  Majesty's 
recovery,  April  23,  1789. 

Psalm  xxvii.  16.  O  tarry  thou  the  Lord's  leisure  ;  be  strong,  and  he  shall 
comfort  thine  heart  ;  and  put  thou  thy  trust  in  the  Lord.  p.  410 

SERMON  XXXIV. 

The  one  thing  needful. 

Luke  x.  41,  42.  Jes»s  answered  and  said  unto  her,  Martha,  Martha,  thou 
art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things  :  But  one  thing  is  needful ;  and 
Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from 
her.  p.  420 

SERMON  XXXV. 

The  manxj  various  opportunities  of  doing  good. 

Pko  VEUB5  iii.  27.     Withhold  not  good  from  them  to  whom  it  is  due,  whea 
.    it  is  in  the  power  of  thine  hand  to  do  it.  p.  433 


SSSk 


SERMON  L 


Mark  xii.  30. 

Thou  shall  love  the  Lord  thy  God  ivith  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all 
thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind,  and  tvith  all  thy  strength. 
This  is  the  Jirst   commandment. 

THE  LOVE  OF  God,  so  forcibly  inculcated  in  this 
and  other  passages  of  Scripture,  is  a  sentiment 
purely  evangelical  ;  and  is  one  of  those  many  pecilliar 
circumstances  which  so  eminently  distinguish  the  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel  from  the  dry  unanimated  precepts 
of  the  ancient  heathen  moralists.  We  never  hear  them 
urging  the  love  of  God,  as  a  necessary  part  of  human 
duty,  or  as  a  proper  ground  of  moral  obUgation,  Their 
religion  being  merely  ceremonial  and  political,  never 
pretended  to  reach  the  heart,  or  to  inspire  it  with  any 
sincerity  or  warmth  of  affection  towards  the  Deity. 
Indeed  how  was  it  possible  to  have  any  love  for  such 
gods  as  tiVey  worshipped  :  for  gods  debased  with  eve- 
ry human  weakness,  and  polluted  with  every  human 
vice  ?  It  was  enough  surely  to  make  the  people  wor- 
ship such  a  crew.  To  have  insisted  upon  dieir  lo\ing 
them  too,  w^ould  havd  exceeded  all  bounds  of  modesty 
and  common  sense.  But  Christianity  having  given  us 
an  infinitely  great  and  good  and  holy  God  to  worship, 
very  naturally  requires  iVom  us  the  purest  and  devoutest 
sentiments  of  affection  towards  him  ;  and  with  great 
justice  makes  the  love  of  our  Maker  an  indispcnsible 

A 


2  SERMON   I. 

requisite  in  religion,  and  the  grand  fundamental  dtrty 
of  a  Christian.  Surely  then  it  concerns  us  to  enquire 
carefully  into  the  true  nature  of  it.  And  it  concerns 
us  the  more,  because  it  has  been  unhappily  brought 
into  disrepute  by  the  extravagant  conceits  of  a  few 
devout  enthusiasts  concerning  it.  Of  these,  some 
have  treated  the  love  of  God  in  so  mystical  and  refin- 
ed a  way,  and  carried  it  to  such  heights  of  seraphic 
ecstasy  and  rapture,  that  common  minds  must  for  ever 
despair  either  of  following  or  understanding  them ; 
whilst  others  have  described  it  in  such  warm  and  in- 
delicate terms,  as  are  much  better  suited  to  the  gross- 
ness  of  earthly  passion,,  than  the  purity  of  spiritual 
affection.  And  what  is  still  more  deplorable,  the  love 
of  God  has  been  sometimes  made  the  scourge  of  man  ; 
and  it  has  been  thought  that  the  most  effectual  way  to 
please  the  Creator,  was  to  persecute  and  torment  and 
destroy  his  creatures.  Hence  the  irreligious  and  pro- 
fane have  taken  occasion  to  treat  all  pretence  to  piety 
as  fanatical  or  insincere  ;  and  even  many  of  the  wor- 
thier part  of  mankind  have  been  afraid  of  giving  way 
to  the  least  warmth  of  devout  affection  towards  the 
great  Author  of  their  being.  But  let  not  the  sincere 
Christian  be  scared  out  of  his  duty  by  such  vain  ter- 
rors as  these.  The  accidental  excesses  of  this  holy 
sentiment  can  be  no  just  argument  against  its  general 
excellence  and  utility.  As  the  finest  intellects  are 
most  easily  disordered  and  overset  ;  so  the  more  gen- 
erous and  exalted  our  affections  are,  the  more  liable 
are  they  to  be  perverted  and  depraved.  We  know  that 
even  friendship  itself  has  sometimes  been  abused  to 
the  most  unworthy  purposes,  and  led  men  to  the  com- 
mission of  the  most  atrocious  crimes.  Shall  we  there- 
fore utterly  discard  that  generous  passion,  and  consid- 
er it  as  nothing  more  than  the  unnatural  fervor  of  a 
romantic  imagination  !  Every  heart  revolts  against  so 
wild  a  thought.  And  why  then  must  we  suffer  the 
love  of  God  to  be  banished  out  of  the  world  because 
it  has  been  sometimes  improperly  represented,  or  indis- 
creetly exercised  ?  It  is  not  eitlier  from  the  visionary 


SERMON   L  3 

mystic,  the  sensual  fanatic,  or  the  frantic  zealot,  but 
from  the  plain  word  of  God,  that  we  are  to  take  our 
ideas  of  this  divine  sentiment.  There  we  find  it  de- 
scribed in  all  its  native  purity  and  simplicity.  The 
marks  by  which  it  is  there  distinguished  contain  no- 
thing enthusiastic  or  extravagant.  The  chief  test  by 
which  the  gospel  orders  us  to  try  and  measure  our  love 
to  God  is,  the  regard  wic  pay  to  his  commands.  "  He 
"  that  hath  my  commandments,  and  keepeth  them,'' 
says  our  Lord,  "  he  it  is  that  loveth  me."*  "  This  is 
"  the  love  of  God,"  says  St.  John,  "  that  we  keep  his 
"  commandments."!'  And  again,  in  still  stronger 
terms  :  "  Whoso  keepeth  God's  word,  in  him  verily 
*'  is  the  love  of  God  pcrfectcd.'^^X  Had  a  proper  atten- 
tion been  paid  to  such  passages  as  these,  we  should 
have  heard  nothing  of  those  absurd  reveries  which 
have  so  much  disgraced  this  doctrine.  Yet,  while  wc 
thus  guard  against  the  errors  of  over- strained  pietism, 
let  us  take  care  that  we  fall  not  into  the  opposite  ex- 
treme of  a  cold  and  cautious  indifference  ;  that,  as 
others  have  raised  their  notions  of  this  excellent  qual- 
ity too  high,  we,  on  the  other  hand,  sink  them  not 
too  low.  Because  the  Scriptures  say,  that  to  keep  the 
commandments  of  God,  is  to  love  God,  therefore  too 
many  are  willing  to  conclude  that  no  degree  of  inward 
aftection  need  accompany  our  outward  obedience  ;  and 
that  all  appearance  of  devout  ardor  is  a  suspicious  and 
even  dangerous  symptom.  But  this  notion  is  to  the 
full  as  groundless  and  unscriptural  as  those  above- 
mentioned  ;  and  needs  no  other  confutation  than  the 
very,  words  of  the  text.  We  are  commanded  not  mere- 
ly to  loiic  God,  but  to  love  him  To'ith  all  our  hearty  and 
soul.,  and  mind.,  and  strength.  Since  then  our  obedi- 
ence must  be,  as  we  have  seen,  the  measure  of  our 
loi}e.,  we  are  plainly  bound  by  this  command  to  obey 
him  also  with  all  our  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind,  and 
strength  ;  that  is,  with  zeal,  with  alacrity,  with  vigor, 
with  perseverance,  with  the  united  force  of  all  our  fa- 
culties and  powers,  with  one  universal  bent  of   the 

•  Jobn  i:iv.  21.  f  1  John  v.  j.  |  1  John  ii.  5. 


4  SERMON  I. 

whole  man  towards  God.  The  love  of  our  Maker, 
then,  is  neither  a  mere  unmeaning  animal  fervor,  nor 
a  lifeless  formal  worship  or  obedience.  It  consists  in 
devoutness  of  heart,  as  well  as  purity  of  life  ;  and  from 
a  comparison  of  the  text  with  other  passages  of  Scrip- 
ture, we  may  define  it  to  be,  "  such  a  reverential  ad- 
miration of  God's  perfections  in  general,  and  such  a 
grateful  sense  of  his  infinite  goodness  in  particular,  as 
render  the  contemplation  and  the  worship  of  him  de- 
lightful to  us  ;  and  produce  in  us  a  constant  desire  and 
endeavor  to  please  him  in  every  part  of  our  moral  and 
rehgious  conduct." 

This  it  is  that  the  Scriptures  mean  by  the  love  of 
God  ;  and  it  is  nothing  more  than  what  every  man 
may,  if  he  pleases,  very  easily  acquire.  It  is  not  a 
new  perception,  of  which  we  never  experienced  any 
thing  before  ;  it  is  not  an  unintelligible,  mysterious,  or 
supernatural  impression  upon  the  soul :  it  is  only  a 
purer  degree  of  that  very  same  affection,  which  we 
frequently  entertain  for  some  of  the  most  v\  orthy  of 
our  own  species.  This  sentiment  religion  finds  already 
existing  in  our  minds,  and  all  that  it  does  is  to  give  it 
a  new  direction,  and  to  turn  it  upon  God,  as  its  high- 
est and  properest  and  most  adequate  object.  If  then 
we  wish  to  know  still  more  clearly  in  what  the  love  of 
God  consists  j  and  what  share  of  it  we  ourselves  pos- 
sess ;  we  must  consult  our  own  breasts,  and  consider  a 
little  how  we  feel  ourselves  affected  towards  the  emi- 
nently great  and  good  among  our  fellow  creatures. 
Now,  when  we  observe  any  one  of  this  character  going, 
on  steadily  and  uniformly  in  one  regular  even  course 
of  upriglit,  noble,  disinterested,  benevolent  conduct, 
making  it  the  chief  study  and  business  of  his  life  to 
promote  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  every  human 
being  within  his  reach  ;  we  can  no  more  help  esteem- 
ing and  loving  and  reverencing  so  excellent  a  person, 
than  we  can  forbear  desiring  food  when  we  are  hun- 
gry ;  even  though  we  ourselves  are  not  in  the  least  ben- 
efited by  his  goodness.  But,  should  we  be  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  live  under  his  ir.fiuence,  and  to  be  interested 


SERMON   I.  $ 

in  his  virtues  ;  to  have  him  for  .our  friend,  our  bene- 
factor ;  our  parent,  guardian,  governor,  or  protector ; 
then  it  is  scarce  possible  for  language  to  express  the 
emotions  of  affection,  gratitude,  and  delight,  which  we 
feci  in  contemplating  his  goodness,  and  even  in  the 
very  mention  of  his  name.  In  cases  like  this  (and  such 
cases  do,  God  be  thanked,  sometimes  exist)  how  does 
our  heart  burn  ivithin  iis^  how  restless  and  impatient 
are  wc,  till  we  find  some  better  way  than  that  of  words 
to  express  the  sense  Ave  have  of  our  benefactor's  kind- 
ness towards  us  ?  With  what  solicitude  do  we  study 
every  turn  of  his  countenance,  and  endeavor  to  prevent 
his  very  wishes  ?  We  not  only  do  what  he  desires,  but 
we  do  it  M  iih  alacrity  and  ardor.  W'e  love  to  speak  of 
him,  to  think  of  him,  to  converse  with  him,  to  imitate 
him.  ^\  c  never  mention  him  but  in  terms  of  rever- 
ence and  respect.  We  arc  jealous  cf  his  reputation  ; 
we  cannot  bear  to  hear  it  lightly  treated,  We  enter 
heartily  into  his  interests,  and  adopt  his  sentiments. 
We  love  Avhat  he  loves,  we  hate  \\ hat  he  hates,  we 
are  ready  for  his  sake  to  do  any  thing,  to  relinquish  any 
thing,  to  suffer  any  thing.  These  arc  the  sentiments 
we  entertain,  and  this  the  conduct  we  observe  towards 
those  that  we  love  on  earth  ;  and  in  this  manner  does 
Christianity  expect  us  to  love  our  Father  that  is  in 
heaven.  If  this  sincerity  and  ardor  of  affection  arc 
justly  esteemed  both  natural  and  laudable  in  the  one 
case,  why  are  they  not  at  least  equally  so  in  the  other  ? 
Why  may  they  not  \\  ithout  any  stretch  of  our  faculties, 
or  any  imputation  of  hypocrisy  or  enthusiasm,  be  ex- 
ercised tov.'ards  Him,  who  is  the  very  perfection  of 
every  thing  that  is  great  and  good  ;  who  is  in  reality, 
and  in  the  strictest  sense,  our  friend  and  benefactor, 
our  parent,  guardian,  protector,  and  governor  all  in 
one  ?  It  is  true,  indeed,  there  is  one  difference,  and 
that,  as  some  think,  a  Aery  material  one,  between  the 
tAvo  cases.  Our  earthly  friends  are  seen,  our  heavenly 
one  is  unseen.  But  Avho  Avill  pretend  to  say  that  aac 
can  have  no  love  for  those  Avhom  avc  liaA^e  never  seen  ? 
Do  Ave  not  often  concciAC  the  hip-hest  rec-ard  and  ven- 


6  SERMON   I. 

eratlon  for  the  worthies  of  past  ages,  whom  we  know 
only  by  the  portraits  that  history  draws  of  them  ?  And 
even  with  respect  to  persons  of  distinguished  excel- 
lence in  our  own  times  :  it  is  not  always  necessary 
that  we  should  see  in  order  to  love  them.  It  is  enough 
that  we  feel  that  they  are  present  with  us,  by  that 
most  pleasing  and  convincing  of  all  proofs,  the  benefits 
they  confer  upon  us.  Now  we  know  that  God  is  eve- 
ry where  present  ;  tliat,  "  he  is  not  far  from  every 
*' one  of  us;"  that  in  him  we  most  literally  "live, 
*'  and  move,  and  have  our  being."  Though  we  see 
not  bhn,  yet  his  kindness  and  bounty  to  us  we  see  and 
feel  every  moment  of  our  lives  :  and  die  invisibility  of 
the  giver  is  amply  compensated  by  the  inestimable 
value  of  his  gifts.  By  him  we  were  first  brought  into 
being  ;  by  his  power  that  being  is  continually  upheld  ; 
by  his  mercy  in  Christ  Jesus  we  are  redeemed  from 
sin  and  misery  ;  by  his  grace  we  are  excited  to  every 
thing  that  is  good  ;  by  his  providence  we  are  hourly 
protected  from  a  multitude  of  unseen  dangers  and  ca- 
lamities ;  to  his  bounty  we  owe  the  various  comforts 
and  delights  that  surround  us  here,  and  the  provision 
that  is  made  for  our  everlasting  happiness  hereafter.  Is 
it  possible  now  to  receive  such  favors  as  these,  without 
sometimes  thinking  of  them  ;  or  to  think  of  them  with- 
out being  filled  with  love  and  gratitude  towards  the 
gracious  Author  of  them  ?  If  they  affect  us  at  all,  they 
must  affect  us  strongly  and  powerfully.  For,  although 
the  love  of  God  is  not  a  sudden  start  of  passion  ;  but 
a  sober,  rational,  religious  sentiment,  acquired  by  re- 
flection, and  improved  by  habit ;  yet,  as  1  before  ob- 
served, it  must  not  be  so  very  rational  as  to  exclude 
^//  affection  ;  it  may,  and  it  ought  to  produce  in  us  a 
steady  and  uniform,  a  sedate  yet  fervent  sense  of  grat- 
itude towards  God  ;  exerting  itself  in  acts  of  adoration 
and  praise,  and  substantialized  in  the  practice  of  every 
Christian  virtue. 

Have  you  then  (ask  your  own  hearts),  have  you  ever 
given  these  practical,  these  only  decisive  proofs,  that 
you  really  love  God,  as  the  text  requires  you  to  do, 


SERMON  I.  7 

with  all  your  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind,  and  strengdi  ? 
Have  you  made  his  precepts  the  first  and  principal  ob- 
ject of  your  care,  and  pursued  other  things  only  in  sub- 
ordination to  that  great  concern  ?  Have  you  not  only 
admired  and  adored  his  perfections,  but,  as  far  as  the 
infirmity  of  vour  nature,  and  the  infinite  distance  be- 
twQcn  God  and  man  would  allow,  endeavored  to  imitate 
them  ?  Have  you  delighted  to  think  and  to  speak  of 
him,  and  never  thought  or  spoke  of  him,  but  with  the 
utmost  veneration  and  awe  ?  When  you  have  heard  his 
holy  name  profaned,  or  seen  any  of  his  ordinances  or 
laws  insulted,  have  you  always  felt  and  expressed  a 
proper  abhorrence  of  such  unworthy  behavior  ?  Have 
you  sacredly  observed  that  holy  day  which  is  set  apart 
for  his  service,  and  not  only  attended  public  worship 
yourselves,  but  taken  care  that  all  under  your  roof  and 
under  your  protection  should  do  the  same  ?  Have  you 
brought  up  your  children  "  in  the  nurture  andadmoni- 
"  tion  of  the  Lord*  ;"  and  amidst  all  the  fine  accom- 
plishments, amidst  all  the  prudent  maxims  with  which 
you  have  furnished  them,  have  you  taught  them  that 
*'  wisdom  which  is  from  above,"  and  formed  them  to 
shine  in  another  world  as  well  as  this  ?  Have  you  gladly 
seized  all  opportunities  of  conversing  with  your  Maker 
in  private  and  in  domestic  prayer ;  of  pouring  out  your 
soul  before  him  on  all  occasions,  whether  of  sorrow  or 
of  joy,  intreating  pardon  for  your  offences,  and  implor- 
ing his  assistance  for  your  future  conduct  ?  Have  you 
for  his  sake  been  content  sometimes  not  only  to  forego 
many  worldly  comforts  and  advantages,  but  even,  if 
necessary,  to  encounter  ridicule,  reproach,  and  injuri- 
ous treatment  ?  Have  you  cheerfully  sacrificed  to  his 
service,  when  called  upon,  your  health  and  your  re- 
pose, your  amusements  and  pursuits,  your  favorite  pas- 
sions and  your  fondest  wishes,  the  pleasures  of  youth, 
the  ambition  of  manhood,  the  avarice  of  old  age  ?  Have 
you  borne  with  patience  and  resignation  all  the  disap- 
pointments, losses  and  afflictions,  that  have  befallen 
you  ?  Have  you  considered  them  as  the  corrections  of 

•  E[)be5ian8  vi,  4. 


i  SERMON  I. 

his  fatherly  hand,  and  submitted  without  a  miirriiut  to' 
all  the  dispensations  of  bis  providence  ?  Have  you,  in 
iine,  entirely  subdued  all  anxious  and  fretful  thoughts' 
about  your  temporal  aifairs,  and  acquired  that  absolute 
composure  and  serenity  of  mind  in  every  condition  of 
life,  which  nothing  but  religion  can  give,  and  nothing 
but  guilt  can  take  away  ;  committing  yourselves  and 
all  your  concerns  to  the  great  Disposer  of  every  human 
€vent ;  with  a  perfect  confidence  in  his  infinite  wisdom 
and  goodness,  and  a  firm  persuasion  that  every  thing 
will  work  together  ultimately  for  your  good  ? 

By  questions  such  as  these  it  is^  that  you  must  try  and 
examine  yourselves  whether  you  really  love  God  or  not. 
In  all  this  there  is  nothing  visionary  or  fanatical,  nothing 
but  what  the  coolest  heads  and  the  calmest  spirits  may 
easily  rise  to,  nothing  but  what  reason  approves  and 
the  gospel  enjoins,  nothing  but  what  we  ourselves 
should  in  a  proportionable  degree  require  from  those 
who  pretend  to  liave  a  sincere  regard  and  affection  for 
us.  What  answers  you  can  give  to  these  questions 
your  own  consciences  ean  best  tell.  But  what  a  very 
great  part  of  mankind  can  say  to  them,  one  may  but 
too  well  imagine.  Some  there  arc,  who,  far  from  hav- 
ing any  love  for  God,  affect  to  doubt  his  very  existence, 
and  professedly  make  a  jest  of  every  thing  that  looks 
like  religion.  Others,  immersed  in  the  pursuits  of 
pleasure,  of  interest,  of  ambition,  have  no  time  to  waste 
upon  their  Maker,  and  hardly  know  whether  they  be- 
lieve a  God  or  not.  And  even  of  those  who  profess  both 
to  believe  and  to  reverence  him,  how  few  are  there  that 
know  any  thing  of  that  inward  and  hearty  love  for  him 
which  leads  to  universal  holiness  of  life  ?  If  they  main- 
tain an  external  decency  of  conduct,  are  just  in  their 
dealings,  and  generous  to  their  friends,  they  think  that 
all  is  well,  and  that  they  are  in  the  high  road  to  salvation. 
All  their  notions  of  duty  terminate  in  themsehes,  or 
xht'iv  fel!o\\}  creatures,  and  they  seem  to  have  no  appre- 
hensions of  any  peculiar  homage  or  service  being  due 
to  tiieir  Creator.  They  can  therefore,  without  any  re- 
morse of  conscience,  make  a 'v\  anion  and  irreverent  use 


SERMON   I.  9 

cf  his  holy  name,  in  oaths  and  execrations,  which  can 
answer  no  other  purpose  but  tliat  of  insulting  God,  and 
£^i\  ing  pain  to  every  serious  mind.  Not  content  with 
the  ample  provision  of  six  days  out  of  seven  for  their 
business  and  amusement,  they  must  have  the  seventh 
too,  or  they  are  undone.  They  grudge  their  Maker 
even  that  slender  pittance  of  time  which  he  has  reserved 
to  himself;  they  prostitute  the  whole,  or  the  greater 
part  of  it,  to  the  most  trifling  or  most  unworthy  purpo- 
ses ;  and  think  it  much  fitter  that  he  should  be  robbed 
of  his  worship  than  they  of  their  pleasures  and  pursuits 
for  a  day,  or  even  for  an  hour.  Much  less  can  they 
aftbrd  to  spend  a  few  minutes  every  day  in  private  medi- 
tation and  prayer  ;  and  as  to  family  devotion^  it  would, 
they  think,  absolutely  ruin  their  character,  and  expose 
them  to  everlasting  contempt.  Or  if  by  chance  they 
do  go  so  far  as  to  worship  God  both  in  public  and  at 
home,  yet  with  what  visible  languor,  and  coldness,  and 
indifference,  do  they  often  labor  through  this  heavy 
task  ;  and  how  apt  are  they  to  deride  and  stigmatize 
with  opprobrious  names  those  who  show  any  unusual 
marks  of  seriousness  and  devotion  ?  They  think  it  a 
dreadful  crime  to  be  righteous  oiier-much^  but  none  at 
all  to  be  righteous  over-little.  They  are  terribly  afraid 
of  being  called  bigots  and  enthusiasts  ;  but  think  there 
is  no  danger  of  falling  into  the  opposite  extreme,  of 
lukewarnmess  and  want  of  piety.  They  profess  per- 
haps sometimes,  andperhaps  too  persuade  themsehes, 
that  they  reall)^  love  God;  but  they  give  no  demonstra- 
tive proof  that  their  persuasion  is  well-grounded,  and 
their  professions  sincere.  If  they  have  the  for7n  of 
godliness,  they  too  commonly  want  the  poxver  of  it. 
'I'heir  piety  is  in  general  exterior  and  local,  confined 
to  the  ordinary  offices  of  devotion,  and  the  walls  (jf  a 
church;  not  considering  that  God  is  equally  present 
every  where ;  that  the  \vhole  world  is  his  temple,  and 
tile  sanetity  of  our  whole  lives  his  worship.  But  their 
lives  are  consecrated  to  far  other  puri^oses.  Their  af- 
fections are  not  set  on  things  above,  their  views  do  not 
tend  there,  their  hopes  are  not  centered  there,   "  Uieir 

B 


iO  SER]\ION   I. 

"  treasure  is  on  earth,  and  tliere  is  their  heart  also." 
The  main  end,  the  frreat  and  nkimatc  aim,  of  all  their 
actions  and  designs,  is  not  to  please  God,  but  to  please 
' themsches ;  to  advance  their  power,  to  enlarge  their 
fortunes,  to  multiply  their  amusements.  Their  love  of 
God  is  only  secondary,  and  subservient  to  these  pri- 
mary considerations ;  just  as  much  as  is  commodious 
and  easy^  and  consistent  with  all  their  favorite  pursuits. 
Satisfied  wiUi  "  eschewing  evil,"  they  do  not  go  on 
^'  to  do  the  thing  that  is  good;"  they  do  not  press  for- 
wards towards  those  sublime  and  exalted  virtues,  that 
preference  of  God  to  every  w^orldly  consideration,  that 
entire  resignation  to  the  divine  will,  that  perfect  trust 
and  reliance  upon  Heaven,  which  are  the  surest  proof, 
and  the  fairest  fruit,  of  true  genuine  piety.  In  prospe- 
rity, their  hearts  are  lifted  up,  and  they  forget  God ; 
in  adversity,  they  are  cast  down,  and  dare  not  look  up 
to  him.  Or  if,  when  misfortunes  press  hard  upon  them., 
they  are  at  length  brought  do^vn  upon  their  knees  before 
him  ;  yet  this  is  commonly  an  act  of  fear  rather  than  of 
love,  of  necessity  rather  than  of  choice  ;  after  experi- 
encing \vhat  every  human  being  will  experience  in  his 
turn,  the  instability  of  worldly  happiness,  and  the 
weakness  of  itv^xy  earthly  support. 

What  then  can  be  said  for  those  who  fall  under  this 
description,  and  what  excuse  can  they  ?nake  for  the 
neglect  of  so  important  a  duty?  For,  whatever  they 
may  think  of  it,  how-ever  lightly  in  the  gaiety  of  their 
hearts  they  may  treat  the  love  of  their  Maker,  }'et  it  is 
confessedly  the  first  and  great  command,  and 
stands  at  the  head  of  every  Christian  virtue.  If  you 
ask,  i:jhy  it  is  thus  distinguished,  the  answer  is  obvious. 
It  is  plainly  reasonable  and  right ;  it  is  conformable  to 
all  our  ideas  of  order  and  propriety,  that  the  Supreme 
Lord  of  All,  the  first  and  greatest  and  best  of  Beings, 
should  have  ^hit  first  place  in  our  regards,  and  that  those 
duties  which  respect  him  as  their  immediate  object, 
should  have  the  precedency  and  command  over  every 
other.  But  besides  this  natural  fitness,  there  is  another 
I'ery  important  reason  why  the  love  of  God  is  called  in 


SERMON   I.  U 

the  G  ospel  the  first  a  n  d  cheat  c  o  IvI  m  and.  And 
that  is,  because  among  all  the  incentives  to  virtue,  it  is 
the  only  one  whose  operation  is  sufiiciently  efiectual  and 
extensive,  the  only  one  that  can  reach  to  every  instance 
of  duty,  and  produce  an  uniform,  consistent  character 
of  goodnes s .  It  is  the  prand,  leading  prlncipk  of^  right 
conduct,  the  original  source  and  fountain  from  which  all 
Christian  graces  flow;  from  whence  the  "  living  wa- 
ters" of  religion  take  their  rise,  and.branch  out  into  all 
the  various  duties  of  hv.man  life.     Other  motives  may 

frequently  lead  us  to  what  is  right.  Instinct,  constitu- 
tion, prudence,  convenience,  a  strong  sense  of  honor 
and  of  moral  rectitude,  Vvill  in  many  cases  prompt  us  to 
worthy  actions  ;  but  in  cdl  cases  they  will  not,  especial- 
ly in  those  of  great  danger,  and  difiiculty,  and  self-deni- 

■  al  ;  \vhereas  the  love  of  God,  if  it  be  hearty  and  sincere, 
will  equally  regulate  the  vc  hole  oi  our  conduct;  will, 
on  the  most  delicate  and  trying  occasions,  engage  us 
to  renounce  our  dearest  interests  and  strongest  inclina- 
tions, M'hen  conscience  and  duty  require  it  at  our  hands. 
A  man  ^vithout  any  religion  at  all  may  do  good  occa- 
sionally, may  act  laudably  by  chance  ;  his  virtue  may 
break  out  sometimes  in  sudden  temporary  gleams  ; 
but  whoever  wishes  to  be  habitually  and  uniformly 
good,  must  have  the  vital  principle  of  piety  working  at 
his  heart,  and  by  a  constant,  regular  v»'armlh  producing 
constant  and  regular  fruits  of  righteousness. 

Let  not  then  cither  the  sober  moralist,  or  the  gay 
man  of  the  world,  any  longer  treat  this  m^ostholy  affec- 
tion with  derision  ar.d  contempt,  as  a  mere  ideal,  unin- 
telligible notion,  fit  only  for  the  cloystered  monk,  or  the 
superstitious  devotee.  It  is,  on  the  contrary,  one  of 
the  most  useful,  one  of  the  most  practical  sentiments 
belonging  to  our  nature,  adapted  no  less  to  active  than 
to  contemplative  life,  and  entirely  calculated  to  promote 
all  the  great  purposes  of  social  happiness  and  universal 
good.  This  is  not  a  time,  God  knows,  for  weakening 
any  of  those  ties,  ^vhich  bind  men  do'an  to  their  duty, 
much  less  for  dissolving  that  strongest  of  all  bonds,  af-, 

"^  lectionatc  allegiance  to  the  great  Soverign  of  the  uri;-. 


12  SERMON    I. 

verse  ;  ^Yhich,  as  the  Scripture  expresses  it,  constrains 
us  to  every  thing  that  is  right  and  good,  from  this  pow- 
erful, this  irresistible  motive  ;  because  the  author  of 
our  being,  the  author  of  every  blessing  we  enjoy,  de- 
mands it  from  us,  a  proof  of  our  gratitude,  as  the  best, 
the  only  return  we  can  make  to  his  unbounded  good- 
ness. Without  this,  every  system  of  ethics,  however 
specious  or  plausible  it  may  seem  in  theory,  will  be 
found  on  trial  imperfect  and  ineffectual.  And  it  is  one 
of  the  many  invaluable  benefits  we  owe  to  the  Gospel ; 
that  by  the  addition  of  this  goDcin'mg  principle^  this 
master  affection^  to  all  the  other  groimds  of  moral  ob- 
ligation, it  has  given  virtue  every  assistance  that  heaven 
and  earth  can  furnish  ;  it  has  given  iis  the  completest 
and  most  efficacious  rule  of  conduct  that  was  cvef 
pffered  to  mankind. 


■SBBSiasnnBi 


SERMON  II. 


John   iii.   19. 

This  is  ihe  condemnatio?!,  that  light  is  come  into  the  nvorld^  aiid  men 
loved  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their  dccdi  were 
evil. 

WHEN  the  several  parts  of  the  text  are  reduced 
to  their  proper  order ;  they  give  us  the  four 
following  distinct  propositions. 

That  light  is  come  into  the  world. 

That  men  have  preferred  darkness  to  thisliglit. 

That  the  reason  is  because  their  deeds  are  evil. 

And  that  the  consequence  of  this  choice  will  be  con^ 
demnation. 

It  may  be  worth  our  while  to  bestow  a  little  consid- 
eration on  each  of  these  particulars. 

In  this  enlightened  age,  it  will  be  thought  no  para- 
dox to  assert  that  "  light  is  come  into  the  \\orld." 
The  position  is  true  in  more  senses  than  one  ;  but  there 
is  only  one  that  can  suit  this  passage.  The  light  here 
meant  can  be  no  other  than  that  divine  one  of  revela- 
tion, which  "  brought  life  and  immortality*"  along 
with  it.  The  Christian  dispensation  is  constantly  and 
imiformly  described  in  holy  writ  under  this  figure, 
from  the  time  that  the  first  faint  glimmerings  of  it  ap- 
peared at  a  distance,  till  it  shone  forth  in  its  full  lustre 
find  glory  under  the  Gospel.     Indeed  there   seems  to 

*  2  Tim.  i.  10. 


14  SERMON   II. 

be  scarce  any  other  image  that  could  so  fitly  and  ad- 
equately represent  it  to  us.  It  is  of  the  same  use  to 
the  spiritual,  that  the  light  of  the  sun  is  to  the  natural 
world.  It  gives  life,  health,  and  vigor,  to  God's  new 
creation  ;  it  makes  the  "  day  of  salvation*"  to  dawn 
upon  us  ;  it  opens  to  us  the  prospect  of  another  and  a 
better  life  ;  "  it  is  a  light  to  our  feet  and  a  lantern  to  our 
"  pathsf,"  and  guides  us  in  the  way  to  happiness  and 
glory. 

I'he  next  assertion  contained  in  the  text,  that  "  men 
'■  have  preferred  darkness  to  this  light,"  may  seem  to 
require  a  proof.  To  "  love  darkness  rather  than 
light"  is  so  opposite  to  our  nature,  so  inconsistent 
with  our  general  manner  of  proceeding,  that  it  seems 
at  first  incredible.  If  it  really  is  the  case,  so  perverse 
a  choice  was  never  made  but  in  religion.  Every  oth- 
er kind  of  light  men  catch  at  with  the  utmost  eagerness. 
The  light  of  the  heavens  has  been  ever  esteemed  one 
cf  the  greatest  blessings  that  Providence  has  bestowed 
upon  us,  ^v•ithout  which,  even  life  itself  would  be 
Iiardly  thought  worth  possessing.  The  love  of  knowl- 
edge, that  light  of  the  mind,  appears  in  us  as  early,  and 
operates  in  us  as  strongly,  as  any  one  principle  in  our 
nature  ;  and,  in  every  instance,  the  human  understand- 
ing naturally  lays  hold  on  every  opportunity  of  infor- 
mation, and  opens  itself  on  every  side  to  let  in  all  the 
light  it  is  capable  of  receiving. 

How  then  comes  it  to  pass  that  with  a  mind  thus 
constituted,  thus  thirsting  after  light,  men  can  some- 
times bring  themselves  to  do  such  violence  to  their 
nature,  as  to  chuse  darkness,  in  that  very  point  where  it 
is  of  the  utmost  imxportance  to  have  all  the  light  they 
can  possibly  get  ;  where  every  step  must  lead  to  hap- 
piness or  misery,  and  every  error  draw  after  it  the  most 
fatal  and  lasting  consequences  ?  Yet  our  Saviour  tells 
us,  that  this  was  actually  the  case  in  his  days,  and  would 
God  that  daily  experience  did  not  show  the  possibility 
of  it,  in  our  own  !  But  when  we  seethe  various  artifi- 
ces widi  w'hich  revelation  is  every  day  assailed  ;  when 

*  2  Cor.  vJ.  2.  t  I'bal.  c.\ix.  105. 


SERMON  II.  15 

we  see  one  man  *  most  ingeniously  reasoning  lis  out 
of  every  ground  of  certainty,  and  every  criterion  of 
truth  ;  involving  self-evident  axioms  in  obscurity  and 
confusion  ;  and  entangling  our  understandings  in  the 
gloomy  intricacies  of  scholastic  subtilty  and  metaphys- 
ical abstraction  ;  when  we  see  anothcrt  exhausting  all 
the  powers  of  a  most  fertile  genius  in  ridiculing  the 
dispensations  of  the  God  that  gave  it  ;  making  the 
most  awful  subjects  of  religion  the;  constant  sport  of 
liis  licentious  wit ;  and  continuing  to  sit  with  unabated 
levity  in  '*  the  seat  of  the  scorncr,"  till  he  drops  from 
it  into  the  grave ;  u'hen  we  see  a  third  J,  with  the 
strongest  professions  of  sincerity,  and  good  faith,  pro- 
posing most  humbly  what  he  calls  his  doubts  and  scrit- 
ples^  and  thereby  creating  them  in  the  minds  of  others  ; 
extolling  one  part  of  Christianity  in  order  to  subvert 
the  rest ;  retaining  its  moral  precepts  ;  but  rejecting 
its  miracles  and  all  its  characteristic  doctrines  ;  eivincc 
an  air  of  speciousness  to  the  wildest  singularities  by 
the  most  exquisite  graces  of  composition,  and  insidi- 
ously undermining  the  foundations  of  the  Gospel, 
Avhile  he  pretends  to  defend  it :  when,  I  say,  our  adver^ 
.'varies  assume  such  diiferent  shapes,  and  set  so  many 
engines  at  work  against  us  ;  what  else  can  this  mean 
but  to  take  from  us  ail  the  sources  of  religious  informa- 
tion, and  bring  us  back  again  to  the  darkness  and  igno- 
rance of  our  Pagan  ancestors  ?  It  is  to  no  purpose  to 
tell  us  here  of  the  light  of  nature.  It  is  an  affront  to 
our  senses,  to  offer  us  that  dim  taper,  in  the  room  of 
the  "  sun  of  righteousness^."  Whatever  may  be 
said  (and  a  great  deal  has  been  said)  of  the  modern  im- 
provements of  science,  the  discoveries  of  philosophy, 
and  the  sagacity  of  human  reason,  it  is  to  revelation 
only  we  are  indebted  for  the  superior  light  we  now 

*  Hume  ;  whose  uncomfortable  and  iinin»vlligihls  system  nf  PynhonisTn 
has  been  exposed  with  great  spirit  and  eloquence  in  Du.  Beat'i  ie"s  Elisa^i 
ov.  the  nature  and  hnmutability  of  Truth  :  in  which  (as  well  as  in  all  tliC 
other  jn-odiictions  of  the  same  excellent  writer)  the  reader  will  hnJ  that  union 
so  rarely  to  be  met  with,  of  u  clear  head,  a  fine  iina?;ination,  a  correct  taste, 
and  a  heart  thoroughly  warmed  with  the  love  of  truth  and  virtue. 

t  Voltaire,  ♦  Rovsseai'.  ^i  Mai.  iv.  2. 


ye  SERMON   IL 

boast  of  in  religion*.  If  nature  could  ever  have  point- 
ed out  to  us  right  principles  of  belief,  and  rules  of  con- 
duct, she  might  have  done  it  long  ago  ;  she  had  four 
thousand  years  to  do  it  in  before  the  coming  of  Christ. 
But  v/hat  little  progress  was  made  in  this  vast  space 
of  time  ;  what  egregious  mistakes  were  committed, 
not  only  in  the  speculative  doctrines  of  religion,  but 
in  some  of  the  most  essential  points  of  practical  mo- 
rality, I  need  not  remind  you.  How  comes  it  then  to 
pass,  that  this  blind  guide  is  at  last  become  so  quick- 
sighted  ?  How  comes  her  eye  on  a  sudden  so  strong 
and  clear,  as  to  see  into  the  perfections  and  will  of 
God,  to  penetrate  into  the  dark  regions  of  futurit}^  to 
take  in  at  one  view  the  whole  compass  of  our  duty, 
and  the  whole  extent  of  our  existence  ?  It  is  plain 
some  friendly  hand  must  have  removed  the  film  from 
her  eyes  ;  and  what  other  hand  could  this  be  than  that 
gracious  and  beneficent  one,  which  gave  eyes  to  the 
])lind,  and  feet  to  the  lame  ;  which  helped  the  impo- 
tence, and  healed  the  infirmity,  of  nature  in  every  in- 
stance, in  none  more  than  in  this  ?  It  is  in  short 
from  the  sacred  sources  of  the  Gospel,  that  reason 
drew  that  light  she  now  enjoys.  Let  then  men  walk, 
if  they  voiil  be  so  perverse,  "  by  this  lesser 
*'  LiGHTf,"  which  was  only  intended  "  to  rule  the 
"  nighty."  of  heathenism  ;  but  let  them  be  so  honest 
as  to  confess  that  it  is  only  a  borrowed,  a  rejiecled light ; 
that  it  owes  much  the  greatest  part  of  its  present  lus- 
tre to  THAT   GREATER,    THAT     B  E  TTE  R   L  I  G  H  T  of  the 

Gosijel,  whose  province  it  is  "  to  govern  the  dayli," 
and  to  ligliten  every  "  man  that  cometh  into  the 
"  \vorId*«-." 

Let  us  however  suppose  for  a  moment  (what  can 
ne\cr  be  proved)  that  mankind  are  novv-  much  better 
able  to  investigate  truth,  and  to  find  out  their  duty  by 
themselves,  than  they  were  in  former  ages  ;  and  that 
reason  can  git^e  us  (the  utmost  it  ever  did  or  can  pre- 

*  Mr.  R(nisseaii  himself  confesses,  that  nil  the  fine  morality  disj)layed  in 
r'lTTtc  of  our  modern  publicutions,  is  derived  no?  from  philfsophy,  but  from 
ih'.- Gohptl.     Vol.  i.\-.  ]).  71. 

t  Gen   i.  16  \  11...  %  lb.  ='*  Jch.  i.  9. 


SERMON   li.  17 

tend  to  give)  a  perfect,  system  of  moralit}-.  But  what 
will  this  avail  us,  unless  it  could  be  show  n  that  man  is 
also  perfect  and  uncorrupt  ?  A  religion  that  contained 
nothing  more  than  a  perfect  system  of  morality  might 
perhaps  suit  an  angel :  but  it  is  only  one  part,  it  is 
only  a  subordinate  part,  of  the  religion  of  a  man  and  a 
sinner.  It  would  be  but  very  poor  consolation  to  a 
criminal  going  to  execution,  to  put  into  his  hands  a 
complete  collecUon  of  the  laws  of  his  countrj^  when  the 
poor  wretch  perhaps  expected  a  reprieve.  It  could 
serve  no  other  purpose  than  to  embitter  his  agonies, 
and  make  him  see  more  clearly  the  justice  of  his  con- 
demnation. If  you  chose  to  do  the  unhappy  man 
a  real  service,  and  to  give  him  any  substantial  comfort, 
you  must  assure  him  that  the  olience  for  which  he  was 
going  to  die  was  forgiven  him  ;  that  his  sentence  was 
reversed ;  that  he  would  not  only  be  restored  to  his 
prince's  favor,  but  put  into  away  of  preserving  it  for 
the  future  ;  and  that  if  his  conduct  afterwards  was  hon- 
est and  upright,  he  should  be  deemed  capable  of  enjoy- 
ing the  highest  honors  in  his  master's  kingdom.  But 
no  one  could  tell  him  this,  or  at  least  he  would  credit 
no  one  that  did  ;  except  he  was  commissioned  and 
authorised  by  the  prince  himself,  to  tell  him  so.  He 
might  study  the  laws  in  his  hands  till  the  very  moment 
of  his  execution,  without  ever  linding  out  from  them 
that  he  should  obtain  a  pardon. 

Such,  tlic  Scriptures  inform  us,  ivas  the  state  of  man 
before  Christ  came  into  the  v.orld.  He  had  fallen 
from  his  original  innocence.  He  ^vas  a  rebel  against 
God,  and  obnoxious  to  his  wrath.  Tlie  sentence  of 
dtaih  had  passed  upon  him,  and  he  had  no  plea  to  offer 
to  arrest  the  execution  of  it.  Reason,  you  say,  gives 
him  a  perfect  rul-e  to  walk  by.  But  he  has  already 
transgressed  this  rule  ;  and  if  even  this  transgres- 
sion w  ere  cancelled,  yet  if  left  to  himself,  he  may  trans- 
gress it  again  the  next  moment.  He  is  uneasy  under 
his  sentence,  he  wants  forgiveness  for  the  past,  assist- 
ance for  tl:e  future  ;  and  till  vou  can  cjive  him  this,  it 
IS  an  insult  upon  his  misery  to  talk  to  him  of  a  pcr- 

C 


18  SERMON    IT. 

feet  rule  of  action.  If  this  be  all  that  reason  can  givd 
him  (and  it  is  really  much  more  than  it  can  give  him) 
he  must  necessarily  have  recourse  to  Revelation.  God 
only  knows,  and  God  only  can  tell,  whether  he  "wiU 
forgive,  and  upon  what  terms  he  will  forgive  the  offences 
done  against  him  ;  what  mode  of  worship  he  requires  ; 
what  helps  he  will  afford  us  ;  and  what  condition  he 
will  place  us  in  hereafter.  All  this  God  actually  has 
told  us  in  the  Gospel.  It  was  to  tell  us  this,  He  sent 
his  Son  into  the  world,  whose  mission  was  confirmed 
by  the  highest  authority,  by  signs  from  Heaven,  and 
miracles  on  earth  ;  whose  life  and  doctrine  are  deliv- 
ered down  to  us  by  the  most  unexceptionable  wit- 
nesses, who  sealed  their  testimony  with  their  blood  ; 
who  were  too  curious  and  incredulous  to  be  themselves 
imposed  upon,  too  honest  and  sincere,  too  plain  and 
artless,  to  impose  upon  others. 

What  then  can  be  the  reason  that  men  still  refuse  to 
see,  and  persist  in  "  loving  darkness  rather  than  light?'*' 
They  M'ill  tell  you,  perhaps,  that  it  is  because  the  Gos- 
pel is  full- of  incredible  mysteries;  but  our  Saviour  tells 
you,  and' he  tells  you  much  truer,  that  it  is  "  because 
"  their  deeds  are  evil."  The  mysteries  and  difficulties 
of  the  Gospel  can  be  no  real  objection  to  any  man  that 
considers  what  m.ysteries  occur,  and  what  insuperable 
objections  may  be  started,  in  almost  every  branch  of 
human  knowledge  ;  and  how  often  we  are  obliged,  in 
our  most  important  temporal  concerns,  to  decide  and 
to  act  upon  evidence,  incumbered  with  far  greater  diffi- 
culties than  any  that  are  to  be  found  in  Scripture.  If 
we  can  admit  no  religion  that  is  not  free  from  mystery, 
Ave  must,  I  doubt,  be  content  without  any  religion  at 
all.  Even  the  religion  of  nature  itself,  the  whole 
constitution  both  of  the  natural  and  the  moral  world,  is 
full  of  mystery*  ;  and  the  greatest  mystery  of  all  v\'ould 
be,  if,  with  so  many  irresistible  marks  of  truth,  Chris- 
tianity should  at  last  prove  false.  It  is  not  then  be- 
cause the  Gospel  has  too  little  light  for  these  men  that 

*  vide  Voltaire,  ^lestions  stir  P Encyclopedia,  V.  i.  p.  190.     Rmisscciv.,  T.  7- 
p.  ire.  ^T.Q.  p.  17,  26,  32,  4:^—12°,  1762,  Fran.fort. 


SERMON    11.  19 

ihcy  reject  it,  hut  because  it  has  too  much.  ''  For  every 
-'  one  that  doth  evil  hateth  the  light,  neither  cometh  to 
'•  the  light,  lest  his  deeds  should  be  reproved*."  The 
light  ot"  the  Gospel  is  too  prying  and  inquisitive  for 
such  an  one.  It  reveals  certain  things  which  he  could 
wish  to  conceal  from  all  the  world,  and  if  possible  from 
himself.  Nor  is  tliis  all  ;  it  not  only  reveals,  but  it 
reproves  them.  It  strikes  him  with  an  evidence  he 
cannot  bear  ;  an  evidence  not  only  of  its  own  truth, 
but  of  his  unworthy  conduct.  The  Gospel  does  in- 
deed offend  him  ;  but  it  is  not  his  understanding,  it  ig 
his  conscience,  that  is  shocked  ;  he  could  easily  credit 
what  it  requires  him  to  believe  ;  but  he  cannot,  or 
rather  he  will  not,  practice  what  it  comrnands  him 
to  do. 

It  is  plain  that  such  a  man  cannot  possibly  admit  a 
Revelation  that  condemns  him  ;  and  it  is  as  plain  that  the 
man  of  virtue  cannot  spurn  the  hand  that  is  graciously 
stretched  out  to  reward  him.  If  he  is  a  truly  virtuous 
man,  that  is,  one  who  sincerely  labors  to  kno^v  his 
duty,  and  sincerely  intends  to  perform  it,  he  cannot  but 
wisJi  for  more  light  to  guide  him  in  the  investigation, 
more  assistance  to  support  him  in  tlie  discharge  of  it, 
more  happiness  to  crown  his  perseverance  in  it,  than 
bare  reason  alone  can  afford  him.  This  is  what  all  the 
best  and  wisest  Heathens  most  ardently  desired,  what 
nature  has  been  continually  looking  out  for  with  the 
utmost  earnestness  of  expectation.  \\^hen  with  a  mind 
thus  disposed  he  sits  down  to  examine  the  Gospel, 
suarsest  to  me  the  least  shadow  of  a  reason  ^hv  he 
should  reject  it.  He  finds  in  it  a  religion,  pure,  holy, 
and  benevolent,  as  the  God  that  gave  it.  He  finds  not 
only  its  moral  precepts,  but  even  its  sublimest  myste- 
ries, calculated  to  promote  internal  sanctity,  vital  piety, 
unbounded  philanthropy.  He  finds  it  throughout  so 
great  and  noble,  so  congenial  to  the  finest  feelings,  and 
most  generous  sentiments  of  his  soul  ;  that  he  cannot 
but  imsh  it  may  be  true  ;  and  never  yet,  I  believe,  did 
any  good  man  wish  it  to  be  true,  but  he  actually  found 

*  John  iii.  20. 


$b  SERMON   II. 

it  so.  He  sees  in  it  every  expectation  of  nature 
answered,  every  infirmity  supported,  every  want  sup- 
J>lied,  every  terror  dissipated,  every  hope  confirmed  ; 
nay,  he  sees  that  God  has  done  exceeding  abundantly 
above  all  that  he  could  either  ask  or  think  ;  that  he 
has  given  him  (what  reason  could  hardly  have  the  idea 
of)  eternal  happiness  in  a  life  to  come.  Vvill  this  man 
*'  love  darkness  rather  than  that  light  ?"  Will  he 
choose  to  pursue  virtue,  with  much  pains,  little  suc- 
cess, and  no  other  voag.es  than  deat/j  ;  or  to  be  led  to 
her  through  a  safe  and  easy  path  by  an  infallible  guide, 
who  does  not  desire  him  to  "  serve  God  for  nought  ?" 
Let  me  not  however  be  understood  to  assert,  or  to 
represent  the  text  as  asserting,  that  all  unbelievers  are 
without  exception  absolutely  wicked  men.  There 
are  some,  no  doubt,  who  lead,  what  is  called,  good 
moral  lives.  Yet,  if  you  examine  even  these  very 
strictly,  you  will,  I  believe,  seldom  find  that  their  vir- 
tue is  so  pure,  so  uniform,  so  extensive,  so  complete 
in  all  the  several  branches  of  duty,  as  that  of  a  truly  de- 
vout Christian.  And  it  should  be  observed  also,  that 
men  may  reject  the  Gospel,  not  only  because  they  are 
dissolute  in  their  conduct,  but  for  various  other  rea- 
sons :  because,  perhaps,  they  are  too  busy,  or  too  idle, 
to  examine  carefully  into  the  truth  :  because  like  Gal- 
lic, "  they  care  for  none  of  these  things,"  and  like  him 
*'  drive  them  away"  with  contempt  "  from  the  judg- 
*'  ment-seat*"  of  their  own  mind  ;  because  they  giv6 
themselves  up  to  a  warm  lively  imagination  ;  and  are 
impatient  to  show  that  they  have  more  depth  of  thought, 
more  freedom  of  spirit,  and  elevation  of  mind,  than 
the  rest  of  the  world  ;  because,  in  fine,  they  are  ambi- 
tious to  figure  at  die  head  of  a  sect,  to  enjoy  the  de- 
lightful triumph  of  beating  down  long-established  opin- 
ions, and  erecting  upon  their  ruins  a  little  favorite 
system  of  their  oun.  Nou-  all  thc;;c  causes  of  infideli- 
ty, though  less  culpable  tlian  downdiight  profligacy, 
arc  yet  evidently  great  fauils,  and  indicate  moie  or  less 
a  depra^•ed  turn  of  mind  ;  and  from  iniir;craUties  of 

*  Acts  -wiii.  16. 


SERiMON   II.  21 

iJj'is  kind  ?X  least  scarce  any  sceptics  are  entirely  free. 
Or,  admit  that  some  arc  ;  yet  thei;e  instances  are  con- 
fessedly very  r.r.e  ;  and  a  prudent  man  \\'Ould  no  more 
chuse  to  embark  his  morality  on  so  precarious  a  bottom, 
than  he  would  venture  to  v.alk  in  the  dark  amidst  rocks 
and  precipices,  because  some  perhaps  have  done  it 
without  receiving  any  harm.  In  general,  therefore,  the 
ground  of  unbelief  laid  down  by  our  Saviour  in  the 
text  is  undoubtedly  a  true  one  ;  and  if  a  man  shuns  the 
light,  it  is  an  almost  certain  sign  that  his  deeds  are,  in 
some  sense  or  oilier,  in  a  greater  or  a  lesser  degree, 
evil,  and  consequently  his  condemnation  just. 

Yet  how  can  this  be  ?  you  u  ill  perhaps  say.  Can 
God  punish  his  creatures  for  v/alking  by  that  light 
which  he  himself  has  set  up  in  their  own  minds, 
though  he  has  at  the  same  time  perhaps  revealed  a  ful- 
ler light  from  Heaven-^-  ?  Most  certainly  he  can  ;  for 
the  A'cry  same  reason  that  a  prince  might  punish  his 
subjects  for  acting  by  the  law  of  nature,  instead  of  gov- 
erning themselves  by  the  civil  laws  of  the  land.  It  is  not 
a  matter  of  indifference,  whether  you  embrace  Chris- 
tianity or  not.  Though  reason  could  answer  all  the 
purposes  of  Revelation  (which  is  far,  very  far  from 
being  the  case)  yet  you  are  not  at  liberty  to  make  it 
your  sole  guide  if  there  be  such  a  thing  as  a  true  Reve- 
lation. We  are  the  subjects  of  the  Almighty  :  sind 
whether  we  will  acknowledge  it  or  not,  we  live,  and 
cannot />///  live,  under  his  government.  His  will  is  the 
law  of  his  kingdom.  If  he  has  made  no  express  dec- 
laration of  his  will,  vre  must  collect  it  as  well  as  v.e 
can  from  what  we  know  of  his  nature,  and  our  own. 
But  if  he  has  expressly  declared  his  will,  that  is  the 
law  we  are  to  be  governed  by.  AVe  may  indeed  re- 
luse  to  be  governed  by  it ;  but  it  is  at  our  peril  if  we 
do  ;  ibr  if  it  proves  to  be  a  true  declaration  of  his  will, 
to  reject  it  is  rebellion. 

But  to  rejet  or  receive  it,  you  may  alledge,  is  not  a 
thing  in  your  own  power.     IBelief  depends  not  on  your 

•  De  quoi  puis-je  etre   coupable  en  servant  Dicu  relon  les  Liimieres  qu'il 
donne  a  mon  esprit,  S;  selon  l;s  scntinicns  qu'il  iiisiirc  a  monCeur  ?  ko.isseau, 

r:  8  ft.  6r. 


22  SERMON    II. 

will,  but  your  understanding.  And  will  the  rii^hteous  " 
Judge  of  the  earth  condemn  3^ou  for  want  of  under- 
standing^ ?  No ;  but  he  may  and  will  condemn  you 
for  the  vjrong  conduct  of  your  understanding.  It  is 
not  indeed  in  your  power  to  believe  whatever  you 
please,  whether  credible  or  incredible  ;  but  it  is  in 
your  power  to  consider  thoroughly,  whether  a  sup- 
posed incredibility  be  real  or  only  apparent.  It  is  m 
3  our  power  to  bestow  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  atten- 
tion on  the  evidence  before  you.  It  is  in  your  power 
to  examine  it  with  an  earnest  desire  to  find  out  the 
truth,  and  a  firm  resolution  to  embrace  it  wherever  you 
do  find  it;  or,  on  the  contrary,  to  bring  with  you  a 
heart  full  of  incorrigible  depravity,  or  invincible  pre- 
possessions. Have  you  then  truly  and  honestly  done 
e\'ery  thing  that  is  confessedly  in  your  power,  towards 
forming  a  right  judgment  of  Revelation  ?  Have  you 
ever  laid  before  yourself  in  one  view  the  xvhole  collec- 
tive evidence  of  Christianity  ;  the  consistence,  har- 
mony, and  connection  of  all  its  various  parts  ;  the 
long  chain  of  prophecies  undeniably  completed  in  it ; 
the  astonishing  and  well  attested  miracles  that  attended 
it ;  the  perfect  sanctity  of  its  author;  the  purity  of  its 
precepts;  the  sublimity  of  its  doctrines  ;  the  amazing 
rapidity  of  its  progress ;  the  illustrious  company  of 
confessors,  saints,  and  martyrs,  ^\  ho  died  to  confirm  its 
truth  ;  together  vvith  an  infinite  number  of  collateral 
proofs  and  subordinate  circumstances,  all  concurring 
to  form  such  a  body  of  evidence,  as  no  other  truth  in 
the  world  can  shew  ;  such  as  must  necessarily  bear 
down,  by  its  own  weight  and  magnitude,  all  trivial  ob- 
jections to  particular  partsf  ?  Surely  these  things  are 
not  trifles  ;  surely  they  at  least  demand  seriousness  and 
attention.  Have  you  then  done  the  Gospel  this  com- 
mon piece  of  justice  ?  Have  you  ever  sat  down  to  con- 
sider it  with  impartiality  and  candor  ;  v.  ithout  any  fa- 
vorite vice  or  early   prejudice,   without  any   fondness 

"   *  Est  on  maitre  de  croirc,  ou  de  ne  pas  croire  ?  Est  ce  un   crinie  dc  n'avoir 
pas  subien  argumenter  !  Jfnmseau,  tvin.  6.  p.  305. 

^•  See  Dr.  Pidey's  View  of  the  Evidences  of  Clnijiianity,  and  a  short  and 
ckgant  Summavy  of  tkembyDu.  Be.^ttie. 


SERMON   II.  23 

for  applause,  or  novelty,  or  refinement,  to  mislead  you  ? 
Have  you  examined  it  with  the  same  care  and  diligence, 
that  you  would  examine  a  title  to  an  estate  ?  Have  you 
enquired  for  proper  books  ?  Hdve  you  read   the  de- 
fences of  Revelation  as  well  as  the  attacks   upon  it  ? 
Have  you  in  difficult  points  applied  for  the  opinion  of 
wise  and  learned  friends ;  just  as  you  would  consult 
the  ablest  lawyers  when  your  property  was  concerned, 
or  the  most  skilful   physicians  when   your  hfe  was  lit 
stake  ?  If  you  can  truly  say,   that  you   have  done  all 
these  things  ;  if  you  have  faithfully  bestowed  on  these 
enquiries,  all  the  leisure  and  abilities  you  are  master  of, 
and  called  in  every  help  within  your  reach,  there  is 
little  danger  of  any  material  doubts  remaining   upon 
your  mind.     But  if  after  all  there  should,  be  not  afraid  ; 
trust  in  God  and   beat  peace;  *' if  your   own   heart 
*'  condemn  you  not,  then  may  you  have  confidence  to- 
*'  wards  God*."     You  are  in  the  hands  of  a  gracious 
Master,  who  will  not  require   more  of  you   than   you 
are  able  to  perform.     To  the  modest,  the  humble,  the 
diligent,  the  virtuous  enquirer  ;   who  labors  after  con- 
viction, but  cannot  thoroughly  arrive   at  it ;   whenev- 
er attempts  or  wishes  to  infuse  his  scruples  into  others  ; 
%vho  earnestly  strives,   who  fervently    prays   for  more 
light  and  strength  ;  crying  out  wiih  all  the  passionate 
bincerity  of  an  honest  heart,    "  Lord,  I  believe,  help 
*'  thou  mine  unbelieff  ;"  to  him  every  equitable  allow- 
ance will   undoubtedly  be  made,     every  instance   of 
compassionate  tenderness  be  shown.     "  For  like  as  u 
*'  father  pitieth  his  own  children,  even  so  is  the  Lord 
*'  merciful  to  them  that  fear  himi."     But  to  them  w  ho 
neithcv  Jcdr  nor  regard  him  :   to  the  bold  unbelieving 
libertine,  who  is  against  the  Gospel,  because  the  Gos- 
pel is  against  him  ;  to  the  man  of  pride  and  paradox, 
Avho  burns   to  distinguish  himself  from  the  vulgar  by 
the  novelty  of  his  opinions,  and  would  disdain  to  follow 
tlie  common  herd  of  mankind,   even  though  he  knew 
lliey  were  leading  him  to  Heaven  ;  to  the  subtle  minute 
pliilosopher,  who  refines  away  every  dictate  of  common 

•  1  Joliu  iii.  21.  f  :.!ark  i::.  2-1.  ,*:  Pi.  c'.ii.  U. 


24  SERMON   11. 

0ense,  and  is  lost  in  the  dark  profound  of  his  own  wretch- 
ed sophistry ;  to  the  buffoon,  who  laughs  and  takes  pains 
to  make  all  the  world   laugh  at  every  thing  serious 
and  sacred  ;  to  the  indolent,  negligent,  superficial  free- 
thinker, who  reads  a  little,    takes  for  granted  a  great 
deal,  and  understands  nothing  thoroughly  ;  to  the  man 
of  pleasure  and  amusement,   \vho  treats  all  these  things 
with  a  giddy,  wanton,  contemptuous  levity  ;  and  thinks 
that  the  whole  fabric  of  Revelation  may  be  overturned, 
by  a  silly  cavil  or  a  profime  jest,  thrown  out  in  the  gay 
moments  of  convivial  mirth  ;  to  these  I  say,  and  all  like 
these,  the  Almighty  will  one  day  most  assuredly  show, 
that  his  gracious  offers  of  salvation  are  not  to  be  des- 
pised, and  trampled  upon,  and  ridiculed  with  impunity. 
Consider  then,  you,   who  reject  the  Gospel  (if  any 
such  be  here)  consider,  I  intreat  you,   on  ivbat  grounds 
you  reject   it  ;  and  think  a  little   seriously  on    these 
things  once  more  in  your  lives,  before  you  resolve  nev- 
er to  think  again.     Look  well  into  your   own  hearts 
and  see  whether  you  are  really,   M-hat  perhaps  you  pro- 
fess to  be,  unbelievers  on  conviction,   or  whether  you 
have  taken  up  your  infidelity,   as  some   do  their  faith, 
upon  trust.     It  becomes  not  ns  X-O  \'^'^%^  you  unchar- 
itably ;   but  indeed  it  becomes  you  to  examine  your- 
selves very  strictly.    You  may  easily  deceive  the  world; 
you  may,  if  you  please,  deceive  yourselves  ;   but  God 
you  cannot  deceive.     He,  to  whom  all  hearts  are  open 
as  the  clay,  he  knows  whether  you  are  conscientious 
and  honest  doubters,  or  careless,  prejudiced,  profane 
despisers  of  his  word.     "  It  is  a  small  thing  for  you 
*'  to  be  judged  of  man's  judgment ;  he  that  judgeth 
"  you  is  the  Lord*  ;"  and,by  the  unerring  rules  of  his 
justice  you   must  finally  stand   or  fall.     Think  then 
v;hethcr  you  can  face  that  justice  without  dismay  ; 
whether  you  can  boldly  plead  before  the  tribunal  of 
Christ  the  sincerity  of   your  unbelief  as  a  bar  to  your 
condemnation.     That  plea  may  possibly  in  some  cases 
be  a  good  one.     God  grant  it  may  in  yours  !  But  re- 
member this  one  thing  ;   that  you  stake  your  own  souls 
lipon  the  trLitli  of  it. 

»  1  Cor.  iv.  3,  4. 


SERMON  III. 


James  I.   13. 

Let  no  man  saij,  nvhcn  Iw  h  temfited,  I  am  temfitcd  of  God  ;  for  God 
ca7mot  be  trwiited  nvith  eiil,   nciiher  tcmfitcth  he  any  man. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  this  general  prohibition, 
there  is  one  sense  in  which  it  is  \ery  allowable 
to  say  (for  the  sacred  writers  themselves  have  said  it) 
that  men  are  sometimes  tempted  of  God.  And  that  is 
when  by  tempting  any  one  is  meant  only  iryiiig  him, 
putting'his  sincerity,  his  obedience,  his  faith,  or  any 
of  his  other  virtues  to  the  test.  In  this  sense  God 
tempted  Abraliam,  when  he  commanded  him  to  offer 
up  his  son*.  In  this  sense  he  may  be  said  to  have 
tempted  the  Israelites  in  the  wildei'ness,  on  purpose  (as 
Moses  expressly  tells  us)  to  proi:e  them  ;  "to  know 
*'  what  was  in  their  hearts,  whether  they  would  keep 
"  his  commandments  or  nof."  And  in  the  same  man- 
ner he  every  day  suffers  good  men  to  f<ill  into  what  l*s 
very  properly  called  trying  circumstances,  for  the  exer- 
cise and  improvement  of  their  virtue.  To  tempt  men 
inthis  way,  is  evidently  no  impeachment,  either  of  God's 
lioliness,  mercy,  or  justice.  For  he  does  it  with  the 
best  and  most  gracious  intentions,^ in  order  to  call  out 
into  action  the  latent  great  qualities  of  an  honest  and  a 
good  heart,  to  hold  them  up  to  the  observation  and  ap- 
plause of  mankind,  and  to  re^^•ard  them  in  proportion 

*  Gcu.  -wii.  1.  t  Dcut.  viii.  2. 

D 


26  SERMON   III. 

to  the  severity  with  which  he  tried  them.  At  sitch 
temptations  we  ought  to  be  so  far  from  repining,  that, 
as  St.  James  very  rightly  advi&es,  we  should  "  count 
"  it  all  joy  when  we  fall  into  them*,"  should  look  up- 
on them  as  excellent  opportunities  kindly  thrown  into 
our  hands  by  Heaven  itself,  of  demonstrating  our  af- 
fection, our  fidelity,  our  allegiance  to  the  great  Sove- 
reign of  the    universe. 

It  is  not  therefore  in  this  sense,  though  a  very  scrip- 
tural one,  that  the  text  is  to  be  understood,  but  in  that 
more  plain  and  obvious  meaning,  which  is  now  almost 
universally  affixed  to  the  word  temptation.  We  are 
forbid  to  say  that  God  tempts  us,  as  wicked  men  4o, 
to  commit  sin  ;  with  a  desire  to  draw  us  into  it,  and 
with  such  powerful  solicitations  as  it  is  impossible  to 
resist.  This  is  an  assertion  so  daring  and  profane,  that 
one  would  think  the  authority  of  an  apostle  was  not 
wanting  to  warn  men  against  it.  Yet  from  the  expres- 
sion he  makes  use  of,  "  Let  no  man  say,"  it  should 
seem,  as  if  some  men,  in  those  times  of  distress  and 
persecution,  had  s^idit.  And  even  in  our  own  times, 
though  few,  if  any,  are  hardy  enough  to  say  it  in  ex- 
press terms,  yet  indirectly,  and  by  necessary  implica- 
tion, it  is  said  and  insisted  upon  with  vehemence 
almost  every  day.  For  do  we  not  every  day  hear  men 
pleading  constitution  in  excuse  for  their  wickedness, 
and .  throwing  all  the  blame  of  their  vices  on  the 
strength  of  passion,  or  the  violence  of  temptation  ? 
And  what  is  this  but  to  say,  in  other  words,  that  they 
are  tempted  of  God  P  What  is  it  but  to  say,  that  be 
who  is  the  author  of  their  constitution  has  given  them 
appetites  which  they  are  not  able  to  govern,  and  placed 
them  in  the  midst  of  temptations  which  it  is  impossible 
to  resist  or  escape  ?  That  the  powers  with  A\'hich  he 
has  furnished  them  are  not  equal  to  the  duties  he  re- 
quires, and  that  therefore  he  alone  is  answerable  for 
the  crimes  into  which  they  fall  ? 

It  should  be  charitably  presumed,  that  out  of  the 
great  numbers  who  openly  avow  this  plea  of  constitu- 

*  James  i.  2. 


SERMON   III.  27 

lion,  and  the  still  greater  numbers  who  secretly  adopt 
and  act  upon  it,  there  are  but  few,  in  proportion,  who 
see  the  flagrant  impiety  of  it  ;  who  are  sensible  that 
they  say  in  effect,  what  the  apostle  tells  us  no  man 
ought  to  say,  that  they  are  tempted  of  God.  But 
whether  they  perceive  this  consequence,  or  whether 
they  perceive  it  not,  it  is  highly  requisite  to  show  the 
falsehood  of  a  notion,  which  strikes  at  the  very  root  of 
all  morality  and  religion,  and  is  the  favorite  argument 
in  the  mouth  of  e\'ery  libertine  who  thinks  it  worth 
while  to  reason  at  all  upon  the  subject. 

It  must  be  confessed,  indeed,  that  this  life  is  (what 
it  would  be  strange  if  a  state  of  probation  was  not)  a 
very  painful,  and  almost  constant  struggle  betv/een  ap. 
petite  and  duty.  But  it  will  be  found,  I  trust  upon  a 
fair  enquiry,  that  we  are  not  so  unequal  to  the  conflict 
as  some  men  would  willingly  persuade  us  to  believe. 
They  have  themselves  been  vanquished,  and  would 
have  it  thought  impossible  to  conquer.  They  would 
have  us  judge  of  the  difficulty  of  the  enterprize  from 
the  w  eak  efforts  they  made  to  surmount  it,  and  wilfully 
magnify  the  force  of  the  enemy,  in  order  to  extenuate 
the  guilt  and  the  disgrace  of  their  defeat. 

I  mean  not  here  to  say,  that  tliis  conquest  is  to  be 
obtained  always  by  mere  human  strength  alone.  This 
were  to  betray  the  very  cause  of  Christianity  for  the 
sake  of  defending  one  of  its  duties.  Mere  human 
strength  alone  can,  indeed,  on  some  occasions,  when 
properly  exerted,  do  great  things  ;  much  greater  than 
most  men  are  willing  to  imagine.  This  is  evident 
from  those  well-known  instances  of  heroic  virtue  in 
the  heathen  world,  delivered  down  to  us  in  history, 
which  incontestibly  prove,  that  the  native  dignity  of 
virtue,  and  the  simple  efforts  of  unenlightened  and 
unassisted  reason,  are  sometimes  able  to  stand  the 
shock  of  temptation,  in  the  most  delicate  and  trying 
circumstances.  But  these  instances  are  very  rare  ;  to 
be  found  only  among  some  few  men  of  elevated  souls 
and  improved  understandings  ;  and  are  never  mention- 
ed but  as  the  moral  prodigies  and  wonders  of  antiquity. 


28  SERMON  .III. 

Had  man  been  able  of  liimsclf  "  to  overcome  tl-kc 
*'  -world,  and  to  \vork  out  his  own  salvation,"  there  had 
been  no  need  of  any  new  religion ;  God's  grace  had 
been  superfluous,  and  Christ  had  died  in  vain.  But 
the  gross  depravity  of  mankind,  before  the  publi- 
cation of  the  Gospel,  too  plainly  showed  the  weakness 
of  human  nature,  when  left  to  itself,  and  evinced  the 
absolute  necessity  of  some  extraordinary  support.  To 
give  us  this  support,  and  to  guide  our  steps  aright 
amidst  the  snares  and  dangers  that  every  where  sur- 
round us,  our  Redeemer  came  from  heaven ;  and  it  is 
the  peculiar  glory  and  privilege  of  Christianity,  that  it 
is  the  only  religion  which  ever  did  or  could  propose 
sufficient  motives,  and  aftbrd  sufficient  helps,  to  fortify 
its  disciples  against  the  allurements  of  sin,  and  to  keep 
them  unspotted  from  the  world. 

With  the  Deist,  then,  or  tl^e  Atheist,  with  him  that 
professes  only  natural  religion,  or  him  that  professes 
none  at  all,  we  pretend  not  to  contest  the  point ;  we 
readily  allow  temptation  to  be,  on  their  principles^  some- 
times  irresistible,  and  must  leave  them  to  the  hard  dor 
minion  of  unbridled  passions,  and  the  tumults  of  a  dis- 
tempered soub 

But  to  him  who  believes  that  there  is  a  God,  and 
that  he  is  possessed  of  all  those  attributes,  which  both 
reason  and  Revelation  ascribe  to  him,  there  cannot  be 
the  least  shadow  of  a  doubt  in  this  point,  if  he  does  not 
sufler  his  passions  to  throw  a  cloud  over  his  understand- 
ing. For,  can  he  seriously  believe  that  a  God  of  infi- 
nite wisdom  has  given  us  a  rule  for  the  direction  of  our 
lives,  and  yet  rendered  it  in  many  cases  absolutely  im- 
possible for  us  to  conform  to  that  rule  ?  Can  he  per- 
suade himself  that  a  God  of  infinite  mercy  and  good- 
ness, though  he  k?io'Ws  the  strength  of  his  creatures, 
yet  exacts  what  is  beyond  it,  and,  with  all  the  cruelty  of 
an  Egyptian  task- master,  demands  virtue,  without  hav- 
ing given  us  the  capacity  of  bciiig  virtuous  ?  Can  he 
suppose  that  a  Being  of  infinite  justice,  first  compels  us 
to  sin,  by  tlie  strength  of  our  appetites,  and  then  pun- 
ii,hes  tiie  vvretched  sinner  ;  that  lie  is  at  once  the  au^ 


SERiMON   III.  29 

thor  and  avenger  of  iniquity  ?  Can  he  imagine,  that 
he  v/ho  is  holiness  itself,  nho,  as  the  text  expresses  it, 
Cdiinot  be  tcmjitcd  of  cuil^  v^ho  is  of  purer  eyes  than 
even  to  behold  it  witlioutindigiiation,  is  yet  capable  of 
tempting  odiers  to  w  liat  he  himself  forbids  and  abhors  ? 
Can  he,  in  fine,  bring  himself  to  think,  that  the  pre  - 
cepts,  the  exhortations,  the  promises,  the  threatenings  of 
the  Gospel,  are  all  a  mockery  and  insult  upon  us, 
setting  before  us  life  and  death,  good  and  evil,  and  ap- 
plying to  us  as  free  agents  and  accountable  beings, 
when  at  the  same  time  constitution  or  temptation  takes 
from  us  all  liberty  of  will,  and  necessarily  determines  us 
to  a  course  of  \iQt  ?  This  were  to  convert  the  gracious 
Father  of  mankind  into  a  frantic  and  capricious  ty- 
rant over  his  wretched  creatures,  to  strip  him  of  his 
best  perfections,  to  make  vain  the  noblest  faculties  of 
man,  and  overturn  the  whole  fabric  of  natural  as  well 
as  revealed  religion  ;  which  is  surely  purchasing  a  lit- 
tle self-defence  at  much  too  high  a  price,  and  doubling 
instead  of  extenuating  our  guilt. 

Had  God  made  no  express  declarations  on  this  point, 
what  has  been  already  said  would  be  abundantly  suffi- 
cient to  decide  it.  But  he  who  well  knew"  how  apt 
men  are  to  deceive  themselves  in  enquiries  of  this 
nature,  and  how  little  sometimes  the  most  conclusive 
arguments  avail  against  the  clamors  of  appetite,  and 
the  attractions  of  pleasure,  did  not  leave  so  important 
a  truth  to  be  collected  from  reason  only,  nor  trusted 
the  strength  of  our  understiindings,  and  the  honesty 
of  our  hearts,  in  a  case  where  they  are  both  so  liable 
to  be  misled.  If  any  thing  is  clearly  and  expressly  re- 
vealed to  us  in  Scripture,  it  is  this  ;  that  we  want  not 
the  means  of  subduing  temptation,  if  we  will  but  make 
use  of  them  ;  that  "  our  faith  will  enable  us  to  over- 
"  come  the  world  ;  that  if  we  resist  the  devil  he  will 
*' fiee  from  us,  that  therefore,  whenever  we  fall,  it  is 
*'  entirely  our  own  fault,  our  own  infirmity;  and  that 
*'  every  man  is  then  only  tempted,  -when  he  is  drawn 
*'  av/ay  of  his  own  lusts  and  enticed*  ;"  of  his   own 

•  1  Jolir.  V.  4.  James  iv.  7.  lb.  i.  It. 


50  SERMON   III. 

lusts,  properly  so  called  ;  not  those  passions  and  appe- 
tites which  God  gave  him,  but  those  unreasonable 
cravings  which  he  has  himself  created  by  habitual  in- 
dulgence and  unnatural  provocations.  Nay,  in  order 
to  quiet  all  our  fears,  and  to  give  us  the  fullest  satisfac- 
tion on  this  head,  we  are  assured,  that  God  will,  by  his 
Holy  Spirit,  "  help  our  infirmities,  and  strengthen  us 
"  with  might  in  the  inner  man  ;  that  heknoweth  how 
*'  to  deliver  the  godly  out  of  temptation  ;  and  if  we 
**  ourselves  cannot  find  a  way  to  escape,  he  will  make 
"  us  one,  and  will  not  suffer  us  to  be  tempted  (unless 
"  we  are  determined  to  be  so)  above  what  we  are  able 
"  to  bear*." 

After  such  strong  assurances  as  these,  by  which  God 
Almighty  stands  as  it  were  engaged  to  befriend  us,  one 
would  not  think  it  possible  for  the  wit  of  man  to  call  in 
question  so  plain  a  truth,  as  that  of  our  ability,  with 
the  divine  assistance,  to  correct  constitution  and  resist 
temptation.  And  indeed  men  are  very  ready  to  ac- 
knowledge it  in  every  case  but  their  own ;  a  plain 
proof  that  the  reason  why  they  do  not  acknowledge  it 
in  their  own  case  too,  is  not  because  they  want  evi- 
dence, but  because  they  want  honesty.  Every  one 
thinks  that  his  own  darling  passion  is  that  only  insupe- 
rable one  which  was  destined  to  reign  over  the  heart 
of  man,  and  readily  gives  up  all  the  rest.  Believe  what 
every  man  says  of  himself,  and  there  is  not  a  tempta- 
tion but  is  invincible  ;  believe  what  he  says  of  his 
neighbors,  and  there  is  none  but  may  be  easily  sub- 
dued. Nay,  even  in  the  very  same  species  and  degree 
of  wickedness,  we  have  different  measures  of  judging 
of  ourselves  and  other  men.  If  our  brother  be  over- 
taken in  a  fault,  we  condemn  him  without  hesitation 
and  without  mercy,  though  he  has  perhaps  all  the  infir- 
mity of  human  nature  to  plead  in  his  behalf.  And 
yet  we  can  calmly  acquit  ourselves,  when  guilty  of  the 
very  same  crimes,  by  a  thousand  pretended  alleviations. 
We  form  distinctions  in  our  own  favor  which  have  no 
foundation  in  nature,  we  find  out  particularities  in  owr 

*  Rom.  viii.  26.  Eph.  iii.  16.  2  Pet.  ii.  9.  1  Cor.x.  13. 


SERMON   III.  31 

situation  which  escape  every  eye  but  our  own.  Al- 
most every  man,  in  spite  of  reason  and  experience, 
will  flatter  himself,  that  there  is  some  circumstance  or 
other  peculiar  to  his  own  case,  which,  as  it  disting-uish- 
es  him  from  the  common  lot,  exempts  him  also  from 
the  common  guilt  of  other  men.  His  passions  are 
stronger,  his  governing  powers  are  weaker,  or  the 
temptation  that  assails  him  more  violent  than  hu- 
man nature  ever  before  experienced.  Another  man, 
perhaps,  might  have  come  off  victorious  in  the  con- 
flict, but  as  for  himself,  he  is  so  unhappily  framed,  or 
so  unluckily  circumstanced,  that  he  finds  it  in  vain  to 
resist  ;  he  finds  it  impossible  to  oppose  a  conspiracy, 
which  seems  formed  against  his  virtue  by  every  thing 
around  him. 

Nothing  is  more  fatal,  and  at  the  same  time  nothing 
more  common,  than  this  piece  of  self-delusion.  It  is 
for  this  reason  that,  when  St.  Paul  is  endeavoring  to 
strengthen  the  Corinthians  against  the  trials  they  Avere 
exposed  to,  he  sets  out  with  assuring  them,  "  that  no 
*'  temptation  had  taken  them  but  such  as  vjas  common 
"  to  man^''''  as  well  knowing,  that  till  he  had  convinced 
them  of  this  all  other  arguments  would  be  ineffectual. 
To  men  possessed  with  this  opinion  of  uncommon  diffi- 
culties intheii  situation,  it  is  in  vain  to  alledge  the  ex- 
amples of  those,  who  have  successfully  struggled  against 
the  pleasures  or  persecutions  of  the  world,  and  fought 
the  good  fight  with  glory.  The  answer  is  always  at 
hand  :  They  were  not  tempted  as  we  were,  or  they 
would  have  fallen  as  we  did.  One,  hovicver,  we  are 
sure  there  was,  who  was  in  all  things  "  tempted  like  as 
"  we  are,  sin  only  excepted,"  and  who  was  for  this 
very  reason  tempted,  that  his  disciples  and  soldiers 
might  not  despair  of  conquering  an  adversary,  whom 
they  had  seen  the  captain  of  their  salvation  subdue  be- 
fore them. 

It  is  therefore  of  the  utmost  importance  to  us,  not  to 
impose  upon  ourselves  by  false  suppositions  of  some 
uncommon  degree  of  violence  in  the  temptations  that 
befall  us,  or  the  appetites  that  are  given  to  us.     There 


32  SERMON    III. 

arc  probabl}^  thousands  of  our  fellow  creatures,  who 
are  in  as  trying  a  situation  as  ourselves  ;  thousands  at 
least  who  think  themselves  so  ;  and  have  therefore  full 
as  good  a  claim  to  the  plea  of  peculiarity  as  we  have  : 
that  is,  in  f.ict,  no  claim  at  all  :  for  what  is  common  to 
so  many,  can  be  peculiar  to  none.  Among  so  great 
a  number  in  similar  circumstances,  some,  it  is  certain, 
do  resist  the  solicitations  that  assail  them  ;  and  if  we 
are  not  equally  successful,  it  is  only  because  M^e  are  not 
equally  vigilant  and  active.  Sacred  history  (to  say 
nothing  of  profane)  will  furnish  us  with  numberless 
examples  of  the  most  invincible  integrity,  temperance, 
and  fortitude,  under  the  severest  trials,  under  every  pos- 
sible disadvantage,  both  of  nature  and  situation,  that 
can  be  imagined,  AVhat,  therefore,  has  been  done 
once,  may  be  done  again.  Human  nature  is  nearly 
the  same  in  all  ages.  Our  passions  are  not  stronger 
than  those  of  our  forefathers  ;  our  dilticulties  in  some 
respects  much  less ;  our  natural  strength  and  supernat- 
ural assistance  to  the  full  as  great ;  and  if  theref:3re 
we  do  not  struggle  against  the  world  as  effectually  as 
they  did,  we  are  left  without  excuse. 

But  if,  at  last,  men  \\i\{  be  convinced  by  no  experi- 
ence but  their  own,  to  their  own  we  must  refer  them  ; 
and  if  they  will  neither  believe  the  testl.-.iony  of  man, 
nor  the  promises  of  God,  they  will  at  least  believe  them- 
selves, and  give  credit  to  the  report  of  their  own 
hearts.  And  in  fact  may  we  not  appeal  to  every  man's 
own  breast,  whether  he  has  not  actually,  on  certain  oc- 
casions, resisted  those  solicitations,  wliich  he  declares 
are  not  to  be  resisted  ;  whether  he  cannot  recollect  a 
time  when  a  regard  to  reputation,  to  interest,  to  decen- 
cy, to  propriet}^,  or  some  other  casual  consideration, 
has  repressed  the  violence  of  his  predominant  passion, 
when  most  urgent  and  impetuous  ?  The  common  oc- 
currences of  life  make  this  absolutely  necessary  ;  and 
every  one  that  is  not  lost  to  all  sense  of  honor  and 
shame,  and  all  regard  to  external  appearances,  must 
confess  it  to  have  been  fi'equently  the  case  with  him- 
self.    Mow  often,  for  instance,   does  the  presence   of 


SERMON    IIL  33 

•5onic  respectable  person  restrain  even  the  most  irrita- 
ble man  alive  from  a  sudden  burst  of  passion,  which 
at  another  lime,  and  under  the  same  temptation  to  in- 
dulge, he  Mould  liave  declared  it  was  impossible  to 
control  ?  It  is  notorious  that  men  ca?i  mortify  their 
strongest  passions  m  hen  tlicy  ])lease,  and  that  they  do 
every  day  forego  the  most  exquisite  gratifications, 
from  what  they  call  prudential  ?noihes.  There  are 
not  more  importunate  appetites  in  man,  than  those 
of  hunger  and  thirst,  and  yet,  m  hat  is  more  common 
tlian,  for  the  sake  of  life  and  health,  to  do  the  utmost 
violence  to  both  ?  Nay,  even  when  tlic  natural  rage 
of  thirst  is  still  further  exasperated  by  the  burnings  of 
a  fe\'er,  yet  if  such  abstinence  be  deemed  necessary, 
we  can  and  do  deny  these  most  earnest  cravings  of 
appetite,  and  in  this  and  many  other  instances  under- 
go far  greater  torment  for  th.e  sake  of  preserving  a 
life  we  ?)iust  part  ^ith  at  last,  than  is  almost  ever 
necessary  for  securing  the  possession  of  life  cternab 

Wliat  our  own  experience  teaches  us,  our  o^vn 
consciences  confirm  to  us,  which,  by  instantly  smiting 
us  for  every  M'icked  action,  ho^vever  strongly  Ave  M-ere 
prompted  to  it  b>'  nature  or  solicited  by  temptation, 
loudly  intimate  to  us  that  it  w'i\s  in  our  jiowcr  to  ha\c 
done  otherwise  ;  for  wliat  is  naturally  iiupossible^  can 
never  be  imputable,  either  here  or  ]\erealter.  The  truth  ' 
is,  these  specious  pretences  of  u'ngovernabic  passions 
and  invincible  temptations  cannot  stand  the  test  even  at 
the  partial  tribunal  of  our  own  licarts;  and  how  xhcn 
shall  they  appear  before  tiiat  most  awful  and  impar- 
tial one,  THE  JuDGjrr. Tv'T-sr.AT  or  God  ? 

Let  us  not,  then,  nn^"  lonpcr  delude  ourselves,  and 
affront  our  Maker,  by  throwing  all  the  blame  of  our 
misconduct  on  the  strength  of  temptation  or  the  frailty 
of  our  nature.  It  is  enough  that  we  have  acted  wick- 
edly, let  us  not  go  on  moreover,  "  to  cliarre  God 
*'  foolishly."  Let  us  rather,  vrith  the  royal  ptalmist, 
"  confess  our  wickedness,  and  be  sorry  for  our  sins."  . 
A  casual  Inpse,  or  a  distressful  surprise,  God  may  and 
will,  no  doubt,  upon  our  sincc.-c  repentance,  forgive  ; 


Si  SERMON   If  I. 

but  a  cool  deliberate  defence  of  our  impiety,  is  an  in- 
sult upon  Heaven,  which  can  hope  for  no  mercy.  Ta 
accuse  our  constitution,  is  to  accuse  the  author  of  that 
constitution ;  to  say  we  are  by  any  means  compelled 
to  sin,  is  in  fact  to  say,  *'  we  are  tempted  of  God  ;" 
an  assertion  not  only  repugnant  to  the  plainest  de- 
clarations  of  Scripture,  but  to  the  plainest  dictates 
of  common  sense.  It  is  not  God  that  tempts,  but 
man  that  will  be  tempted.  It  is  not  by  God's  ap- 
pointment, but  by  man's  own  negligence  and  su- 
pineness,  that  temptation  becomes  too  strong  for  his 
virtue.  The  growth  of  the  passions  is  gradual,  and 
may  be  seasonably  checked  ;  the  approach  of  temp- 
tation is  visible,  and  may  be  easily  guarded  against. 
But,  instead  of  that,  we  generally  invite  the  danger,  and 
court  our  own  ruin  ;  we  foster  up  some  favorite  appe- 
tite by  constant  indulgence,  and  then  mistaking,  wil- 
fully mistaking,  this  monstrous  production  of  habit  for 
the  genuine  child  of  nature,  very  disingenuously  com- 
plain of  our  passions  and  constitutions.  We  see  the 
enemy  of  our  salvation  approaching  at  a  distance,  and, 
instead  of  preparing  to  make  a  vigorous  resistance,  or 
(what  is  generally  the  safest  way)  a  timely  retreat,  wc 
either  sit  still  in  stupid  indolence  and  suffer  ourselves 
to  be  subdued,  or  we  run  to  meet  the  destroyer  with 
open  arms,  and  make  haste  to  be  undone. 

That  some  men  are  by  nature  more  prone  to  vice 
than  others,  and  that  there  is  a  difference  in  the  origin- 
al frame  and  temperament  of  our  minds,  as  there  cer- 
tainly is  in  that  of  our  bodies,  is  not  perhaps  to  be  ab- 
solutely denied  ;  but  it  must  at  the  same  time  be 
allowed,  that  a  bad  constitution  of  mind,  as  well  as 
of  body,  may,  b}''  proper  care  and  attention,  be  greatly 
if  not  wholly  amended.  And,  as  it  sometimes  happens 
that  they  who  have  the  weakest  and  most  distempered 
frames,  by  means  of  an  exact  temperance  and  an  un- 
shaken  perseverance  in  rule  und  method,  outlive  those 
of  a  robuster  make  and  more  luxuriant  heakh  ;  so 
there  are  abundant  instances,  M'here  men  of  the  most 
depraved  turn  of  mind,  by  keeping  a  steady  guard  up- 


SERMON  III.  55 

on  Aeir  weak  pra'ts,  and  gradually  but  continually  cor- 
recting their  defects  "  going  on  from  strength  to 
"  strength,"  and  from  one  degree  of  perfection  to  an- 
other, have  at  length  arrived  at  a  higher  pitch  of  virtue 
than  those  for  whom  natm-e  had  done  much  more,  and 
who  would  therefore  do  but  litde  for  themselves-  It 
is  said  of  the  great  Athenian  philosopher,  that  he  was 
by  nature  the  very  reverse  of  all  those  virtues  which 
afterwards  shone  so  conspicuous  in  his  conduct  ;  that 
he  was  born  one  of  the  worst,  and  lived  and  died  one 
of  the  best  of  men.  This  at  least  is  certain,  tb,-^, 
whatever  may  be  the  corruption  of  our  nature,  \.  hat- 
ever  the  |X)wer  of  pain  to  stagger  our  virtue,  or  of 
pleasure  to  seduce  it,  it  is  impossible  we  can  be  so 
(brmed,  or  so  situated  by  a  just  and  good  God,  as  to  be 
under  an  absolute  necessity  of  transgressing  those  laws 
\v  hich  he  has  laid  down  for  the  regulation  of  our  con- 
duct. We  may  rest  assured  that  he  will  give  us  pow- 
ers, either  natural  or  supernatural,  to  balance  our  de- 
fects. In  the  common  trials  of  our  virtue,  the  common 
efforts  of  Iraman  nature,  and  tlie  common  influences  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  will  be  able  to  support  us:  "if  any 
"  temptation  take  us,  more  than  is  common  to  man,'* 
God  will  send  us,  provided  we  desire,  and  endeavor  to 
deserve  it,  more  than  common  assistance  ;  for  his 
strength  is  made  perfect  in  our  weakness,  and  we  may 
in  this  sense,  most  truly  say  with  the  apostle,  "  that 
"  when  we  are  weak  then  in  reality  are  we  strong*." 

We  are  not,  however,  to  conclude  from  hence,  that 
God  will  deliver  us  out  of  temptation  without  any 
trouble  on  our  part.  As  without /6i;7z  we  can  do  nothing, 
so  neither  will  he  do  any  thing  without  us.  His  grace 
is  not  intended  to  supersede,  but  to  co. operate  with, 
our  own  most  earnest  endeavors ;  and  the  most  effect- 
ual method  of  securing  to  ourselves  the  divine  assist- 
ance, is  to  make  a  speedy  and  vigorous  use  of  all  those 
means  with  which  we  are  furnished,  for  working  out 
our  salvation.  What  these  means  are,  and  how  we 
may  apply  them  to  the  best  advantage,  will  be  consid- 
ered in  a  separate  discourse. 

»  2  Cor.  x».  10. 


SERMON  IV, 


James  i.   13. 

l,et  710  man  saij,  nvhenlie  is  temjited^  I  am  temjited  of  God  ;  for  Gcd 
camiot  bs  tcmfxtcd  ivith  evil,   yieithcr  ler.iptethhe  aivj  man. 

IN  the  preceding  discourse  I  attempted  to  show,  that 
to  throw  all  the  blame  of  our  vices  on  the  infirmity 
of  our  natural  constitution,  is  in  fact  to  say  that  we 
are  "  tempted  of  God  ;"  that  this  indirect  accusation 
of  our  Maker  is  as  groundless  as  it  is  impious  ;  that 
the  notion  of  ungovernable  passions  and  irresistible 
temptations,  contradicts  our  clearest  apprehensions  of 
the  Divine  nature  and  perfections,  the  most  express 
declarations  of  Scripture,  the  testimony  of  past  ages, 
and  even  our  own  daily  experience.  And,  although  this 
might  be  deemed  sufficient  for  the  conviction  of  any 
reasonable  man,  yet,  in  a  point  of  such  great  impor- 
tance, I  shall  readily  be  excused  for  pursuing  the  same 
subject  a  little  further,  and  for  going  on  to  show,  not 
only  that  temptations  may  be  subdued,  but  bow  they 
may  be  subdued  ;  what  those  means  are,  in  short, 
which  reason  and  religion  have  put  into  our  hands,  for 
combatting  these  enemies  of  our  salvation  ;  for  it  must 
at  last  be  owned,  that  the  most  effectual  way  of  prov- 
ing any  end  to  be  attainable,  is  to  point  out  the  path 
that  leads  to  it. 

I.  The  first  step,  then,  towards  resisting  temptations, 
]s  to  regulate  our  notions  ;•  and  before  we  can  hope  to 


SERMON   IV.  ff 

ticl  virtuous]}",  we  must  learn  to  think  justly.  The 
faurprising  influence  which  worldly  allurciucnts  have 
over  our  minds,  is  in  a  great  measure  owing  to  the  high 
opinion  wc  entertain  of  the  jileasures  or  advantages 
4hey  set  before  us.  Tliat  restless  power  of  the  mind, 
THE  IMAGINATION,  -whicli  is  "  only  evil  continual- 
ly*," is  for  ever  leading  us  beyond  the  bounds  of  truth  ; 
and,  by  raising  up  before  us  certain  visionary  scenes 
of  happiness,  so  excites  our  expectations  and  inflames 
■our  desires,  that  we  w  ait  with  impatience  for  an  oppor- 
tunity of  gratifying  them,  and  are  very  easily  induced 
to  pursue,  and  to  seize  with  eagerness,  what  we  have 
been  accustomed  to  contemplate  with  so  much  plea- 
sure. 

We  must  therefore  keep  a  steady  eye  on  this  licen- 
tious wanderer,  and  never  suffer  it  to  fix  our  attention 
so  long  on  improper  objects,  as  to  delude  us  into  a  false 
opinion  of  their  excellence,  and  an  insatiable  desire  to 
attain  them,  as  indispensibiy  necessary  to  our  happiness. 

Had  the  wretched  Ahab,  ^vhen  he  was  struck  vvitli 
the  beauty  and  the  convenience  of  Naboth's  vineyard, 
called  in  a  little  timely  reflexion,  and  a  little  common 
sense  to  his  aid  ;  had  he  for  one  moment  represented  to 
himself  the  folly  of  supposing  that  the  acquisition  of  a 
few  acres  of  land  could  add  any  thing  to  the  real  com- 
fort of  a  man  \vho  was  already  in  possession  of  a  king- 
dom, and  of  every  enjoyment  that  regal  power  could 
command,  he  might,  in  this  instance  at  least,  have  es- 
caped that  heavy  load  of  guilt  and  misery  which  he  and 
the  vile  partner  of  his  throne  and  of  his  crimes,  brought 
dov/n  upon  their  own  heads.  But  the  proximity  of  this 
vineyard  to  his  own  house  had,  among  other  circum- 
stances, captivated  his  fancy  ;  and  instead,  of  resisting 
the  first  impression,  and  bringing  his  silly  passion  to 
the  bar  of  reason,  he  indulged  and  cherished, it  till  he 
began  to  think  it  absolutely  impossible  for  him  to  live 
Aviihout  that  favorite  spot,  which  he  wanted,  it  seems 
for  ?i garden  of  berbsf.  Unable  to  accomplish  this  im- 
^)ortant  purpose,  "  he  laid  him  down  on  his  bed  an^ 

•  Gen.  yi.  5.  f  1  Kings  xx;.  2. 


38  SERMON    IV. 

*'  turned  aw^^y  bis  face,  and  would  eat  no  bread*." 
This  heavy  affliction,  however  was  soon  removed. 
His  wife  gave  him,  as  she  had  promised,  the  vineyard, 
which  she  purchased  by  a  murder,  and  he  went  down 
with  joy  to  take  possession  of  it.  But  his  joy,  as  is 
commonly  the  case  with  such  triumphant  sinners,  was 
of  very  short  duration.  He  was  met  on  the  very  spot 
with  that  severe  rebuke,  to  which  his  own  conscience 
must  have  given  irresistible  force.  "  Hast  thou  killed, 
''  and  also  taken  possession  ?  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  in 
"  the  place  where  dogs  licked  the  blood  of  Naboth, 
*'  shall  dogs  lick  thy  blood,  even  thinef." 

Let  this  memorable  example  teach  us,  as  well  it  may, 
not  to  allow  our  imaginations  to  overbear  our  judg- 
ments ;  not  to  give  more  importance  to  the  objects  of 
our  wishes  than  their  real  intrinsic  worth  deserves  ;  not 
to  persuade  ourselves,  in  short,  as  we  are  but  too  apt 
to  do,  that  the  whole  happiness  of  our  lives  depends 
on  the  possession  of  the  merest  trifles.  To  secure 
ourselves  against  this  fatal  error,  let  us  learn  to  look  on 
things  in  that  true  unerring  light  in  which  the  Gospel 
of  Christ  holds  them  out  to  us  ;  and  in  estimating  the 
value  of  earthly  enjoyments,  let  us  be  careful  to  consid- 
er, not  merely  the  present  pleasure  or  profit  attending 
them,  but  every  diminishing  or  debasing  circumstance 
which  naturally  belongs  to  them  ;  the  shortness  of  their 
duration,  the  pains  it  generally  costs  us  to  obtain  them, 
the  substantial  happiness  of  which  they  frequently  de- 
prive us  ;  and  the  shame,  ignominy,  remorse,  and  mis- 
cry,  which  almost  constantly  succeed  to  the  indulgence 
of  every  guilty  passion.  If  all  these  appendages  are 
not  taken  into  the  account,  we  shall  make  but  a  very 
unfair  and  imperfect  estimate  ;  and  if  they  are,  there 
will  be  no  danger  of  our  setting  too  high  a  value  upon 
worldly  gratifications. 

It  is  for  this  reason,  that  when  St.  Paul  is  arming  his 
Christian  soldier  for  this  very  combat  against  sinful 
propensities  and  allurements,  the  first  direction  he 
gives  him,  is,   to  ha^e  his  loins  girt  about  wit/j  triithX  ,- 

•  1  Kings  xxi  4.  f  lb.  ver.  19.  t  Epl'-f  s.  vi;  14. 


SERMON   IV.  ^ 

that  is,  to  prepare  himself  for  the  conflict  by  strength- 
ening and  confirming  his  mind  uith  true  Gospel  no- 
tions of  the  world  and  its  enjoyments.  This  he  will 
always  find  to  be  one  of  the  strongest  barriers  against 
the  inroads  of  vice,  one  of  the  most  effectual  means  to 
confine  his  passions  within  their  due  bounds,  and  to 
restrain  him  from  those  immoral  principles  and  irregu- 
lar practices,  which  arc  the  mo&t  certain  consequences, 
of  wrong  opinions. 

II.  When  our  notions  are  thus  regulated,  our  desire* 
will  of  course  be  much  abated  ;  for  they  are  generally 
proportioned  to  the  supposed  value  of  the  desired  ob- 
ject. But  in  order  more  effectually  to  break  and  sub- 
due them,  we  must  inure  them  to  an  early  obedience, 
and  a  patient  submission  to  restraint.  The  man  of  the 
world  affirms  that  temptations  are  irresistible  ;  and  so 
indeed  ke  may  sometimes  find  them  ;  but  it  is  only 
because  they  meet  with  inflamed  appetites,  and  desires 
made  untractable  by  habitual  indulgence.  Let  the 
same  solicitations  assault  a  man  with  the  same  natural 
inclinations,  but  humbled  and  chastised  by  an  early 
discipline  ;  and  these  formidable  assailants  shall  be- 
come weak  and  impotent  things  ;  and  we  shall  plainly 
see  the  difference  between  one  who  seeks  all  occasions 
to  excite  and  exasperate  his  passions,  and  one  who 
takes  every  opportunity  to  check  and  to  control  them.  It 
is  indeed  our  misfortune,  that,  for  the  first  part  of  our 
lives,  w^e  are  almost  entirely  under  the  dominion  of  our 
natural  appetites  and  desires  ;  which  have  therefore  the 
advantage  of  making  tlie  earliest  impressions  upon  the 
mind,  and  gaining  an  ascendency  over  us  before  the 
light  of  reason,  or  the  more  glorious  light  of  Revela- 
tion, breaks  in  upon  the  soul.  And  it  is  never  to  be 
enough  lamented,  that  they  who  have  the  first  care  of 
our  persons,  and  v;ho  ought  to  train  up  the  soul  tohalj- 
its  of  self-government,  by  seasonable  denials  and  well- 
judged  severities  ;  that  these  I  say,  through  ignorance, 
inattention,  or  ill-timed  ttnderness,  too  often  betrcsy 
that  most  important  trust.  By  indulging  every  iVow- 
ard  wish,  cverv  wi;v\\ard  humor  of  the  infant  mind. 


40  SERMON    IV. 

they  frequently  sow  deep  in  our  hearts  the  seeds  of  vicej " 
and  cherish,  instead  of  checking,  those  turbulent  de- 
sires, which,  first  trying  their  strength  in  trifiirig,  and 
therefore  disregarded  instances,  afterwards  break  out 
into  the  most  mischievous  excesses,  to  the  disturbance 
of  our  own  happiness  and  the  peace  of  mankind.  It 
will  therefore  require  some  assiduity  and  address  to 
correct  this  unhappy  defect  of  our  constitution,  and  die 
still  more  unhappy  consequences  of  our  education. ' 
We  must  watch  the  first  motions,  and  suppress  the 
first  risings  of  our  irresrular  desires.  \Ve  must,  from 
the  moment  that  reason  takes  the  reins  into  her  hands, 
assert  her  natural  sovereignty  over  the  soul,  and,  by  a 
timely  and  vigorous  display  of  her  power,  strike  a  ter- 
ror into  her  seditious  subjects,  and  awe  them  at  once 
into  submission.  We  must  be  daily  confirming  her 
superiority,  by  exerting  it  on  all  occasions,  and  making 
use  even  of  the  slightest  advantages  over  the  passions. 
For  every  victory  of  reason  over  appetite,  however  in- 
considerable in  itself,  yet  by  animating  the  one,  and 
dispiriting  the  other,  adds  nevv'  strength  to  the  mind  ; 
and  insensibly  habituates  it  to  resist  the  strongest  solicit- 
ations that  can  assail  our  virtue. 

It  is  with  this  view,  and  this  only,  that  the  Gospel 
of  Christ  so  warmly  and  so  wisely  recommends  to  us, 
the  much  neglected  duties  of  lioluntary  mort'ificaiion 
and  sdf-demal.  Christianity  is  of  too  tender  and  com- 
passionate a  turn,  to  delight  in  the  misery  of  its  dis- 
ciples, or  to  take  an  ill-natured  pleasure  in  thv.'arting 
our  inclinations,  and  counteracting  our  nature.  It 
never  enjoins  a  hardsliip  merely  to  see  how  ^vell  v.e 
can  bear  it,  but  in  order  to  prepare  us  for  some  great- 
er trial  which  we  must  necessarily  undergo.  Our 
])lesscd  Lord  vstil  knew  what  was  in  man,  and  what 
kind  of  management  was  the  prcperest  for  him..  He 
knew,  that  if  we  never  denied  our  passions  before 
it  was  absolutely  necessary,  tliey  would  not  be  denied 
when  it  was  s:o;  and  that,  unless  we  strengthened  the 
governing  powers  of  the  soul,  by  frequently  e:^:ercis!^g 
tiicir  authoritv  in  lerscr  mattC!s,  tlicv  would   net  be 


SERMON   IV.  41 

able  to  maintain  it  in  the  weightier  matters  of    the 

law. 

When  therefore  we  are  commanded  in  Scripture, 
**  to  deny  ourselves  ;  to  take  up  our  cross  and  follow 
"  Christ ;  to  mortify  our  members  which  are  on  the 
*'  earth ;  to  beware  of  conformin,^  to  the  world ;  to 
*'  pluck  out  a  right  eye  or  cut  off  a  right  hand  that 
*'  offends  us,*"  these  expressions  do  by  no  means 
imply  what  some  have  chosen  to  infer  from  them  ; 
that  we  are  to  renounce  the  world,  and  all  its  pleas- 
ures, employments,  connexions,  and  concerns ;  to 
bury  ourselves  in  cloisters  or  deserts ;  to  forego  every 
thing  that  is  cheerful  or  agreeable  to  our  nature,  and 
consume  our  whole  life  in  solitude,  abstinence,  de- 
votion, and  unremitting  austerity.  This  is  an  idea 
of  our  religion  which  nothing  but  the  strangest  mis- 
conception of  it  by  its  friends,  or  the  grossest  misre- 
presentation of  it  by  its  enemies,  could  possibly  have 
suggested.  According  to  the  fairest  and  most  es- 
tablished rules  of  interpretation,  when  applied  to  the 
strong  figurative  language  of  the  Orientals,  these  phrases 
and  many  others  of  the  like  import  in  the  sacred 
writings,  mean  nothing  more  than  (what  every  wise 
moralist  must  approve,  and  every  man  of  experience 
must  know  to  be  absolutely  necessary  to  the  preserva- 
tion of  our  virtue  in  the  midst  of  a  corrupt  world)  a 
constant  habit  of  vigilance,  circumspection,  and  self- 
government  ;  a  cautious  and  jealous  attention  to  the 
movements  of  our  minds  and  the  progress  of  our  pas- 
sions ;  a  discreet  and  sober,  not  a  criminal  and  un- 
bounded conformity  to  the  world  ;  a  renunciation  of 
oursehcs,  that  is,  of  all  selfish  and  sordid  "y^Vu'^  that  in- 
terfere with  the  conscientious  discharge  of  every  reli- 
gious obligation  ;  a  strict  abstinence  from  all  irregular 
and  immoral  gratifications,  without  either  declining  any 
of  the  duties,  or  sullenly  withdrawing  from  the  harm- 
less enjoyments,  conveniences,  and  comforts  of  social 
life.  It  is  true,  in  short,  that  an  exact,  or,  if  you 
please,  rigorous  discipline,  is  required  of  every  man, 

•  Luke  be.  23.     Col.  iii.  5.     Rom.  xli.  2.     Matt.  v.  39,  oO. 

F 


42  SERMON   IV, 

who  enlists  under  the  banners  of  the  cross.  "  He- 
''must  endure  hardness,  as  a  good  soldier  of  Jesus 
"  Christ*."  And  although  this  has  been  made  a  fre- 
quent topic  of  ridicule  or  of  complaint  among  those 
who  call  themselves  philosophers,  and  has  been  repre- 
sented as  a  grievous  burthen  too  heavy  for  human  na- 
ture to  support ;  yet  this  moral  discipline  of  the  soul  is 
grounded  on  the  same  reasons,  and  justifiable  on  the 
same  principles,  as  that  strict  military  discipline,  to 
which  it  is  frequently  compared  in  Scripture ;  and 
which  every  wise  commander  finds  it  necessary  to  ex- 
act and  to  maintain  among  his  soldiers.  It  may  appear 
to  them  sometimes  harsh  and  severe,  but  it  leads  to  or- 
der, ease,  security  and  victory.  The  case  is  the  same 
in  our  Christian  warfare.  Every  restraint  which  the 
Gospel  imposes  on  us  tends  ultimately  to  make  our 
*'  yoke  easy  and  our  burden  light,"  and  its  very  cruel- 
ties if  we  may  call  them  so,  are  in  fact  tender  mercies. 
We  must  therefore  submit  with  patience  to  the  sacri- 
fices it  demands  from  us,  and  we  shall  be  amply  repaid 
for  the  transient  uneasiness  which  at  first  perhaps  they 
may  give  us.  We  must,  in  compliance  with  its  in- 
junctions, not  only  abstain  from  those  lusts  which 
"  openly  war  against  the  soulf,"  but,  like  them  who 
strive  for  the  mastery  in  the  combat  or  the  race,  must  be 
*'  temperate  in  all  things  J  ;"  must  train  up  ourselves 
for  the  good  fight  of  faith  by  frequent  preparatory  ex- 
ercises, must,  "  keep  the  body  under,  and  bring  it  into 
"  subjectionTI"  by  timely  precautions,  and  judicious 
restraints,  that,  when  temptation  calls  upon  us  for  the 
trial  of  our  virtue,  our  desires  may  be  found  patient  of 
control,  and  able  to  support  a  disappointment. 

III.  There  are  two  extremes  to  be  equally  avoided 
in  our  moral  conduct,  because,  though  opposite  to 
each  other,  they  may  prove  equally  fatal  to  our  virtue ; 
a  too  high  opinion  of  our  adversary's  strength,  or  a  too 
great  confidence  in  our  own.  If  once  we  are  per- 
suaded that  all  resistance  is  vain,  we  shall  never  call 
forth  the  strength  that  God  has  put  into   our  hands, 

»  2  Tim.  ii.  3.        f  1  Pet.  n.  11,  +  1  Cor.  ix.  25.  1  lb.  \x.  ^7. 


SERMON   IV.  43 

but  tamely  give  ourselves  up  on  the  first  appearance  of 
danger  ;  or  if,  on  the  contrary,  we  flatter  ourselves  that 
no  resistance  is  necessary,  "  a  sudden  destruction"  shall 
come  upon  us  unawares,  and  we  shall  fall  into  what 
may  be  properly  called  "  our  om'U  mischief."  To 
steer  then  discreetly  between  these  two  opposite  points, 
is  what  demands  our  utmost  care  and  attention.  We 
must,  on  the  one  hand,  possess  ourselves  with  a  prop- 
er sense  of  our  own  natural  resources,  a  firm  trust  in 
God's  supernatural  assistance,  and  a  thorough  convic- 
tion that  our  endeavors,  if  honestly  and  earnestly  ex- 
erted, "  shall  not  be  in  vain  in  the  Lord  ;"  and  on 
the  other,  from  a  due  consciousness  of  our  own  weak- 
ness and  corruption,  neglect  no  precaution  in  our  pow- 
er, nor  wantonly  or  heedlessly  expose  ourselves  to  un- 
necessary danger.  This  indeed  is  the  more  common 
error  of  the  two,  and  therefore  to  be  the  more  care- 
fully guarded  against.  Men  are  much  more  apt  to  have 
too  high,  than  too  low,  an  opinion  of  their  own  for- 
titude, and  so  fall  through  want,  rather  than  excess,  of 
caution.  It  ^\  ill,  therefore,  generally  be  the  safest  way 
to  distrust  our  own  courage  and  resolution,  and  to 
avoid  rather  than  to  provoke  temptation  ;  for  we  may 
often  save  ourselves  by  a  timely  retreat,  when  wc 
should  have  made  but  a  weak  and  inglorious  defence. 

It  is  indeed  always  our  own  fault  if  ever  we  find  our- 
selves beset  with  solicitations,  which  prove  too  strong 
for  our  virtue.  We  may  generally  recollect  a  time, 
when,  if  we  had  but  exerted  the  least  resolution,  they 
must  have  vanished  before  us.  But  we  indolently  give 
way  to  one  wrong  compliance  after  another,  which  we 
might  easily  have  resisted  at  first ;  and  then,  when  it 
is  too  late  to  exert  the  strength  which  our  Maker  has 
given  us,  we  boldly  reproach  him  with  having  given 
us  none  at  all.  There  is,  in  short,  a  point  at  ^vhich  we 
have  it  in  our  power  to  stop  ;  but  if,  through  a  fatal 
negligciice,  or  a  false  security,  we  let  that  opportunity 
slip  ;  if  we  suffer  ourselves  to  be  drawn  a  little  further, 
and  still  a  little  further  on,  whatever  snares  we  may 
afterwards  be  entangled  in,   \\e  can  have  no  reason  to 


44  SERMON   IV. 

complain  of  being  surprised  by   stratagem,  or  over- 
come  by  superior  force. 

IV.  But  in  order  to  guard  against  temptation  still 
more  effectually,  take  unto  you,  my  burthen,  the 
SHIELD  OF  FAITH*  ;  for  this,  as  St.  John  assures  you  ; 
"  is  the  victory  that  overcometh  the  world,  even  our 
"  faithf."  And  the  apostle  might  well  promise  these 
great  things  of  faith,  since  it  is  this  which  supplies  us 
with  one  of  the  principal  things  we  want,  a  counter- 
poise to  the  pleasures  and  the  interests  of  this  life.  For 
by  faith  is  here  meant  a  firm,  a  rational,  and  a  vital 
belief  of  the  being  of  God,  of  the  religion  taught  by 
Christ,  and  the  truth  of  his  promises  and  his  threaten- 
ings  as  declared  in  the  Gospel ;  a  persuasion  that  God 
w,  and  that  he  is  through  his  blessed  Son,  "  a  reward- 
*'  er  of  all  those  that  diligently  seek  him  J."  It  is 
this  persuasion,  and  this  only,  which  in  certain  cir- 
cumstances can  preserve  our  integrity  and  our  inno- 
cence unshaken.  When  this  world,  as  it  sometimes 
happens,  spreads  before  us  on  a  sudden  its  most  pow  > 
erful  allurements  and  advantages,  and  every  thing  con- 
spires  to  make  them  operate  with  their  full  force  upon 
the  heart  ;  what  is  there  that  can  destroy  the  influence 
of  such  dangerous  attractions,  and  rescue  us  from  pres- 
ent ruin  ?  Can  honor,  can  interest,  can  reputation,  or 
those  most  watchful  natural  guardians  of  our  virtue, 
pride  and  shame  ?  These,  alas,  whatever  they  may  do 
in  some  trifling  instances,  are  found  to  be  weak  and 
slender  ties,  "  as  flax  burnt  with  fire^,"  M'hen  opposed 
to  the  violence  of  some  passions,  and  the  shock  of 
some  temptations.  It  is  here  then  faith  steps  in  to  our 
relief,  and  interposes,  between  us  and  danger,  that 
HEAVENLY  SHIELD,  which  is  proof  against  all  as- 
sailants, or,  to  use  the  more  forcible  and  expressive 
language  of  Scripture,  "  wherewith  we  shall  be 
*'  able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked 
"  one**."  Of  this  every  sincere  believer  may  have, 
whenever  he  pleases,  experimental  conviction.  For  if 
he  will  but  frequently  and  seriously  meditate  on  those 

*  Eph.  vi.  16.     1 1  John  v.  4.    j  Heb.  ii.  6.   %  Judges  xy.  14.  **  Eph.  vi.  1€L 


SERMON  IV.  4^ 

awful  doctrines  which  the  Christian  revelation  sets  be- 
fore him  :  that  there  is  a  moral  governor  of  the  universe, 
infinite  in  wisdom,  justice,  power,  and  holiness  ;  that 
in  his  presence  we  continually  live  and  act ;  that  his  all- 
seeing  eye  is  constrantly  fixed  upon  us,  *'  is  about  our 
*'  bed,  and  about  our  path,  and  spieth  out  all  our 
"  ways  ;"  that  there  is  not  so  much  as  "  a  word  in  our 
"  mouth,  or  a  thought  in  our  heart,  but  he  knoweth  it 
"  altogether*  ;"  that,  when  the  glory  of  this  world  has 
passed  away,  there  will  be  a  general  resurrection  to  an- 
other, a  future  state  of  existence,  a  most  solemn  day 
of  retribution  ;  that  our  great  Judge  will  then  require  a 
strict  account  of  all  our  thoughts,  words,  and  actions, 
and  will  make  it  known  to  the  whole  world,  that,  "  ve- 
*'  rily  there  is  a  reward  for  the  righteous,  doubtless 
"  there  is  a  God  that  judgeth  the  earthf  :'*  if,  I  say, 
the  sincere  Christian  will  but  take  care,  by  frequent 
meditation  and  recollection,  to  impress  a  deep  sense  of 
these  momentous  truths  upon  his  soul,  and  render  them 
familiar  to  his  thoughts,  he  will  by  degrees  so  encrease 
his  faith,  and  so  accustom  himself  to  this  train  of  reflec- 
tions, that  the  moment  temptation  assaults  him,  they 
will  habitually  and  mechanically  recur  to  his  mind  ;  the 
rewards  and  punishments  of  a  future  world  will  instant- 
ly present  themselves  to  his  view  ;  the  fear  of  the  Lord 
will  come  upon  him,  and  he  will  say  with  the  patriarch 
on  a  like  occasion,  "  how  can  I  do,  this  great  wicked- 
"  ness,  and  sin  against  God|  ?" 

V.  There  is  still  one  thing  more  remaining,  which, 
though  occasionally  touched  upon  before,  is  of  such 
great  importance  as  to  require  in  this  place  a  distinct 
consideration,  since  without  it  all  our  other  resources 
will  be  ineffectual,  and  that  is  theassistanca  of  God'sHo- 
ly  Spirit.  To  our  great  comfort  we  are  assured,  that 
akhough  the  pov.crs  of  our  ow n  weak  and  corrupt  na- 
ture may  frequently  be  insuflicient  to  carry  us  success- 
fully through  the  difllculties  we  have  to  encounter,  yet 
the  grace  of  God  will  be  at  all  times,  and  in  the  great- 
est exigencies,    sufficient  for  us|i.     This  divine  and 

•  Psalm  cxxxix.  3,  \.     f  Piulm  Iviii.  11.     +  Gen.  \xxix.  9.     (|  2.  Cor-  xii.  9. 


46  SERMON   IV. 

powerful  instrument  of  our  deliverance  is,  as  we  are 
informed,  always  to  be  obtained  by  prayer. 

*'  Our  heavenly  Father  will  give  his  Holy  Spirit  to 
*'  them  that  ask  him.  Whatsoever  we  ask  in  prayer, 
*'  believing,  we  shall  receive*."  But  then  it  is  not  in 
time  of  need  only  we  must  "  seek  the  Lord ;"  in  the 
moment  of  danger  we  may  be  reduced  to  such  straits 
that  nothing  but  a  miracle  can  save  us.  We  must 
therefore  make  God  our  friend  long  before,  and  provide 
against  the  evil  day  while  it  is  yet  afar  off,  and  all  seems 
peace  and  security  around  us.  His  Holy  Spirit  is  not 
to  be  made  subservient  to  a  present  purpose,  to  be  in- 
voked in  our  necessity,  and  slighted  in  time  of  safety  ; 
he  must  either  abide  constantly  with  us,  or  for  ever  re- 
main a  stranger  to  us.  It  is  not  an  occasional  ejacula- 
tion, vented  by  accident  or  extorted  by  fear,  that  will 
bring  him  down  from  heaven  ;  it  is  only  upon  repeated 
solicitations,  and  a  due  preparation  for  his  reception, 
that  this  divine  guest  will  condescend  to  take  up  his 
abode  with  us.  We  are,  as  the  apostle  expresses  it  in 
his  strong  manner  of  speaking,  "  to  pray  always  with 
*'  all  prayer  and  supplication,  and  watch  thereunto  with 
*'  all  perseverancef."  And  this  v/ill  not  only  draw 
down  upon  us  a  plentiful  effusion  of  divine  grace,  but 
improve  and  confirm  our  own  internal  strength  ;  will 
engage  our  attention,  excite  our  industry,  encrease  our 
caution,  and  even  suggest  to  us  every  human  means  of 
deliverance.  For  prayer  has  of  itself  a  natural  tenden- 
cy to  obtain  its  own  purposes,  and  we  grow  insensiblj 
better  whilst  we  wish  to  be  so. 

It  is,  in  short,  on  our  own  vigilance,  circumspec- 
tion, and  self-discipline,  added  to  our  most  earnest  pray- 
ers for  the  divine  assistance,  that  all  our  virtue  here, 
and  all  our  happiness  hereafter,  through  the  merits  of 
our  Redeemer,  entirely  depend.  If  a  man  ivill  throw 
himself  in  the  way  of  danger^  and  venture  to  the  very 
brink  of  vice  ;  if  he  ivill  suffer  his  thoughts  to  v\  ander, 
or  dwell  upon  improper  objects  ;  if  he  knows  his  weak 
parts,  and  yet  leaves  them  without  defence  ;  if  he  sees 

*  Liikc  xi.  33.     Matt,  xxi  22'.  t  Ep'«-  vi.  18. 


SERMON   IV.  47 

a  growing  appetite,  and  instead  of  checking,  seeks  eve- 
ry opportunity  to  feed  and  to  inflame  it ;  if  he  confines 
his  vie^^  s  to  present  enjoyments,  nor  ever  spends  a 
thought  upon  futurity  ;  if,  in  fine,  he  lives  without  God 
in  the  world,  without  any  awe  of  his  presence,  any  trust 
in  his  assistance,  or  any  fear  of  his  judgments,  he  must 
expect  that  the  sUghtest  temptations  will  get  the  better 
of  his  virtue,  already  half  subdued. 

But  if,  on  the  contrary,  he  sets  himself  seriously  and 
in  earnest  to  search  out  and  to  correct  his  infirmities ; 
if  he  flies  at  the  first  approach  of  temptation,  and  takes 
alarm  at  the  most  distant  intimation  of  danger  ;  if  he 
curbs  that  busy  dangerous  power,  the  imagination  ; 
**  if  he  keeps  his  heart^with  all  diligence*,"  and  guards 
the  issues  of  life  ;  if,  as  the  apostle  advises,  he  takes 
unto  him  the  shield  of  faith,  opposing  the  joys  of 
heaven  to  the  pleasures  of  sin,  and  having  less  regard 
to  a  present  gratification  than  the  future  recompence  of 
reward  ;  above  all,  if  he  never  ceases  importuning  the 
throne  of  Grace  for  the  assistance  of  God's  Holy  Spir- 
it to  purify  his  soul,  invigorate  his  resolutions,  and  sup- 
port him  under  all  the  difliculties  and  discouragements 
of  his  Christian  AAarfare  ;  he  may  depend  upon  it,  that 
whatever  may  be  his  constitution,  Nvhatever  the  nature  or 
degree  of  the  temptations  he  is  exposed  to,  not  all  the 
powers  of  darkness  shall  be  able  to  prevail  against  him. 
Though  he  may  perhaps  accidentally  fall,  yet  he  shall 
*'  never  be  cast  away  ;  for  the  Lord  upholdeth  him 
with  his  handf." 

•  Pi-ov.  iv.  2J.  t  Pial.  xx7:vii.  24. 


SERMON  V. 


Matthew  xxv.  46. 

And  these  shall  go  aivay  into  everlasting  fnaiishntent  :  but  the  righlr 
eous  into  life  eternal. 

THIS  is  one  among  numberless  other  passages  in 
lioly  writ,  in  which  a  future  judgment,  and  an 
eternal  state  of  existence  hereafter,  are  clearly  and  posi- 
tively announced  to  us  ;  and  it  is  from  these  declarations 
of  the  Gospel,  and  these  only,  that  we  derive  the  certain 
expectation  of  immortal  life.  To  pretend,  therefore, 
as  some  have  done,  that  we  had  already  sufficient  no- 
tices of  this  important  truth  from  the  light  of  nature, 
and  that  the  conviction,  produced  by  these  notices,  is 
so  complete  as  to  supersede  the  necessity  of  any  fur- 
ther information,  is  to  give  nature  a  degree  of  merit  to 
which  she  is  far  from  having  any  just  pretensions,  and  to 
make  a  very  ungrateful  return  for  the  invaluable  advan- 
tages we  have  received,  in  this  and  many  other  respects, 
from  the  Revelation  made  by  Christ.  But  yet  to  as- 
sert, on  the  other  hand,  that  natural  religion  gives  us 
not  the  smallest  ground  to  hope  that  we  shall  survive 
the  grave,  and  that  every  argument  for  it,  except  those 
which  Scripture  supplies,  is  perfectly  vain  and  nuga- 
tory, and  unworthy  of  the  least  regard,  is  surely  running 
into  another  extreme,  no  less  destitute  of  foundation, 
and  no  less  hurtful  in  its  consequences  than  the  former.  ^- 

*  It  has  been  very  justly  observed,  that  some  writers,  by  exalting  the  pow- 
ers of  reason,  in  matters  of  religion,  too  high,  have  destroyed  the  necessity 
of  Revelation,  and  others,  by  degTading  them  too  low,  have  risqued  the  rea- 
sonableness  oi  It.     Div.  Leg.  vol,  ii.  p.  26- 


SERMON    V.  49 

The  nLiLural  and  moral  evidences  of  anotlier  life  after 
this,  tliough  confessedly  inferior,  very  greatly  inferior 
in  authority  and  force,  to  those  of  Revelation,  yet  un- 
doubtedly have  their  proper  weight  and  use  ;  and  to 
depreciate  their  just  value,  and  sink  them  as  much  as 
possible  in  the  estimation  of  mankind,  is  to  do  no  real 
service  (althoiigli  there  may  have  been  a  sincere  inten- 
tion of  doing  it)  to  the  cause  of  Christianity  ;  which 
has  no  need,  in  this  or  in  any  other  instance,  to  rise  on 
the  ruins  of  human  reason.  On  the  contrary,  it  dis- 
dains not  to  receive  reason  as  its  friend  and  ally,  and 
occasionally  to  elucidate  and  confirm  both  its  doctrines 
and  its  precepts,  b}-  such  collateral  arguments  as  that 
faculty  is  capable  of  supplying.  In  the  present  case 
more  especially,  the  consideration  of  a  future  state  is  a 
subject  so  full  of  comfort  and  satisfaction,  that  the  mind 
of  man  must  necessarily  love  to  dwell  upon  it  ;  must 
wish  to  contemplate  it  in  every  point  of  view  ;  to  ex- 
amine it  in  every  liglit,  \^  hether  natural  or  revealed  ;  to 
let  in  conviction  from  every  quarter  ;  and  must  be 
sooth.ed  and  delighted  to  find  that  so  important  an  ar- 
ticle of  belief,  on  which  so  much  depends  both  in  this; 
life  and  the  next,  is  perfectly  conformable  to  the  nat- 
ural sentiments  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  justest 
conclusions  of  the  human  understanding.  This  must 
be  the  case,  even  with  the  sincerest  believers.  But 
tliereare  some  also  (as  is  but  too  vrell  known)  in  every 
Christian  country,  who  are  ?2or  believers,  and  yet  pro- 
fess to  receive,  on  the  principles  of  natural  religion,  the 
doctrine  of  another  life,  and  a  day  of  recompcnce. 
Now,  no  one,  I  think,  would  wish  to  deprive  even 
these  of  their  persuasion,  on  whatever  grounds  it  rests, 
that  they  are  formed  for  immortality,  and  that  they  are 
responsible  for  their  conduct  here,  at  the  bar  of  their 
Cieator  hereafter.  There  are  other  unbelievers  (for 
they  arc  divided  into  many  different  sects)  who,  though 
not  )'^et  convinced  of  a  future  state  of  existence,  arc 
willing  to  listen  to  the  natural  and  moral  evidences  in 
its  favor,  and  to  no  others.  These,  surely,  it  is  of 
great  importance,  both  to  society  and  to  themselves,  to 

G 


BO  SERMON   V. 

bring-^  if  possible,  to  the  acknowledgment  of  a  future 
retribution.  This  acknowledgment  will,  even  on  their 
own  principles,  bind  them  down  to  a  course  of  action 
very  different  from  that  which  a  contrary  persuasion 
would  have  been  apt  to  produce  ;  and  will,  moreover, 
in  all  probability,  pave  the  way  for  their  entire  belief  oi 
a  religion  which  they  will  find  so  perfectly  harmoniz- 
ing  with  their  favorite  oracle,  Reason,  in  this  most  in- 
teresting point,  and  which  professes  to  give  them  the 
most  authentic  information  concerning  that  unseen 
world,  the  reality  of  which  they  already  admit  to  have 
been  proved*^. 

Whereas  if,  on  the  contrary,  widi  a  view  of  convert- 
ing the  Infidel  to  Christianity,  and  impressing  him  with 
a  high  sense  of  its  dignity  and  importance,  you  set  out 
with  assuring  him  that  reason  gives  us  not  the  slightest 
hops  of  immortality ;  th.it  soul  and  body  perish 
together  in  the  grave,  but  are  both  raised  to  life  again 
at  that  general  resurrection  which  the  Gospel  prom- 
ises ;  he  will  assent  probably,  without  scruple,  to  the 
former  part  of  your  proposition,  but  will  never  be  per- 
suaded, on  the  sole  authority  of  a  Revelation  which  he 
rejects,  to  listen  to  the  concluding  part. 

It  may  therefore  contribute  not  a  little,  both  to  the 
satisfaction  of  the  Christian,  and  the  conviction  of  the 
imbeliever,  to  state,  in  the  first  place,  vvilh  as  much 
brevity  and  perspicuity  as  the  nature  of  the  enquiry 
will  admit,  some  of  the  plainest  and  most  obvious  of 
those  proofs  of  a  future  existence,  which  our  own  rea- 
son is  capable  of  suggesting  to  the  mind,  and  then 
to  proceed  to  those  which  arise  from  the  Christian 
Revelationf. 

*  That  fundamental  doctrine  of  religion  (a  future  state)  would,  if  believed, 
open  and  dispose  the  mind  seriously  to  attend  to  the  general  evidence  «/"  the 
■whole.     Butler's  Anal.  c.  1. 

+  The  substance  of  this  and  the  two  following  sermons  was  written  and 
preached  several  years  ago.  The  discourse  novvr  before  us  is  not,  I  confess, 
of  that  kind  which  I  should  have  selected  for  publication.  But  the  progress 
which  the  doctrine  oi  materialism  has  already  made  on  the  continent,  and  is 
now  endeavoring  to  make  in  this  kingdom,  induced  me  to  think,  that  a, 
compendious  view  of  the  most  intelligible  arguments  for  the  immateriality 
and  natural  immortality  of  the  soul,  as  well  as  of  the  other  principal  eviden- 
ces of  a  future  state,  both  moral  and  scriptural,  would  not  be  at  this  time 
either  unseasonable  or  uuuseful.     'il\\i  youv.g  rcst/tr,  at  least,  for  whose  use 


SERMON  V.  51 

The  first  question  that  naturally  presents  itself  on 
this  subject,  is,  whether  that  percipient  and  thinking 
accent  within  us,  which  we  usuall}^  call  the  soul,  is 
only  apart  of  the  body,  or  whether  it  is  something  to- 
tally distinct  from  it  ?  If  the  former,  it  must  necessa- 
rily share  the  extinction  of  die  body  by  death ;  and 
there  is  an  end  at  once  of  all  our  natural  hopes  of  im- 
mortality. If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  latter  supposition 
of  its  distinct  subsistence  be  the  true  one  ;  it  is  plain 
that  there  will  then  be  no  reason  to  presume,  that  the 
intellectual  and  the  corporeal  part  of  our  frame  must 
perish  together.  That  fatal  stroke  which  deprives  the 
latter  of  life  and  motion,  may  have  no  other  effect  on 
the  former,  than  that  of  dislodging  it  from  its  present 
earthly  tabernacle,  and  introducing  it  into  a  different 
state  of  existence  in  another  world. 

Now,  whatever  difference  of  opinion  there  may  have 
been  among  speculative  men,  either  ancient  or  modern, 
concerning  the  specific  nature  of  the  human  soul ;  yet 
in  this  they  have  all,  "with  very  few  exceptions,  uni- 
versally agreed,  that  it  is  a  substance  in  itself,  actually 
distinct  and  separable  from  the  bedy,  though  in  its 
])resent  state  closely  united  with  it.  This  has  been  the 
invariable  opinion  of  almost  all  mankind,  learned  or 
unlearned,  civilized  or  savage,  Christian  or  Pagan,  in 
every  age  and  nation  of  the  world.  There  is  scarce 
any  one  truth  that  can  be  named,  which  has  met  with 
so  general  a  reception  as  this.  We  discover  it  in  the 
earliest  authors  extant,  both  poets  and  historians  ;  and 
it  was  maintained  by  every  philosopher  among  the  an- 
cients (except  by  Anaximander,  Democritus,  and  their 
followers*)  as   well  as  by  all  the  primitive  Christian 

these  three  discourses  were  principally  intended,  will  here  find  (what  can 
alone  bs  expected,  on  so  cxtens'  e  a  subject  in  so  short  a  compass)  some 
general  and  leading  principles  to  direct  his  judgment  on  a  question  of  no 
small  importance  ;  to  guard  him  against  too  hasty  a  desertion  nf  the  receiv- 
ed opinion  concerning  it  ;  and  to  ])repare  him  for  a  more  profound  and  ac- 
curate investigation  of  it,  if  ever  he  should  feel  himself  disposed  to  pursue 
the  enquiry  any  farther. 

•  See  Cudworth's  Intellectual  System,  vol.  i.  b.  i.  c.  i.  and  ii.  and  c.  v.  p. 
836—841. 

Cicero  (Tusc.  Qjixst.  I.  i.  c.  22.)  mentions  no  more  than  two  philosophers, 
Dic?earchu8  and  Aristoxerus,   who  maintained  that  man  had  no  soul  ;  and 


52  SERMON  V. 

writers,  without,  I  believe,  a  single  exception.  Even 
they  who  supposed  the  soul  to  be  material  (which  was 
undoubtedly  supposed  by  several  Pagan  philosophers, 
as  well  as  by  two  or  three  of  the  Christian  fluhcrs)  yet 
uniformly  held  it  to  be  a  substance  distinct  from  the 
body.  They  supposed  it  to  be  air,  or  fire,  or  harmo- 
ny, or  a  fifth  essence,  or  something  of  a  finer,  purer, 
more  aetherial,  texture  than  gross  matter ;  and  many 
of  them  conceived  it  also  to  be  immortal,  or  capable  of 
becoming  so.  Nor  was  it  only  the  polished  and  en- 
lightened nations  of  Greece  and  Rome,  of  Egypt  and 
Asia,  that  believed  man  to  be  a  compound  being,  con- 
sisting of  two  separate  substances,  but  even  the  rudest 
and  most  barbarous  tribes,  of  whom  history  has  pre- 
served any  traces.  And  it  is  well  known,  that  wher- 
ever curiosity,  commerce,  or  the  spirit  of  adventure 
has  extended  modern  discoveries,  this  notion  has  been 
found  existing.  It  has  been  found  as  prevalent  through- 
out the  vast  continents  of  India  and  America,  and  the 
various  islands  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  and  the  south- 
ern hemisphere,  as  in  every  other  quarter  of  the  globe*. 
So  general  a  suffrage  of  almost  the  whole  human  race, 
in  favor  of  this  opinion,  is  surely  a  very  strong  pre- 
sumption of  its  truth.  It  proves  it  to  be  no  less  con- 
formable to  the  first  natural  apprehension  of  the  untu- 
tored mind,  than  to  the  soundest  principles  of  philoso- 
piiyf.  And  it  will,  I  apprehend,  receive  no  small 
confirmation  from  considerins;  some  of  the  more  remar- 
kable  operations  of  the  soul  itself. 

It  is  evident,  that  the  intellectual  part  of  our  frame 
exercises  a  superintending  and  sovereign  conmiand 
over  the  body.     It   moves,  directs,  controls,  supports, 

he  gives  their  reason  for  tl.is  opinion — c/uia  dlfficUis  crct  cnlvii  quid  et  qua- 
ils sit  intelligentia.  This  principle,  if  tanit'd  to  its  full  extent,  would,  I  am 
afraid,  prove  equally  that  we  have  no  bodies ;  because,  as  the  greatest  of 
our  philosophers,  Newton,  L,ocke,  &c.  have  repeatedly  asserted,  it  is  full  as 
difncult  to  comprehend  the  nature  of  :i.  corporeal  as  of  "an  incorporeal  suh- 
stance.  Yet  this  principle  seems  still  to  have  no  small  vvcij^lit  with  the 
patrons  of  Materialism. 

*  See  all  the  late  voyages  to  those  parts,  by  Captain  Cook  and  other  navi- 
gators. 

f  Omni  in  re  consensio  omnium  gentium  le.-c  haturai:  putanda  es^, 
ffusca.  Q^UKst.  1.  i. 


SERMON    V.  55 

•protects,  and  .s^overns  the  whole  corporeal  system. 
Now,  in  other  cases,  we  bce  that  the  moving  pgwer 
is  something  dificrent  from  the  machine  it  actuates. 
We  are  therefore  led  by  analoo^y  to  conclude,  that  the 
soul  is  as  distinct  from  the  body,  as  the  fjrce  of  gravi- 
ty is  from  the  clock  which  it  sets  in  motion,  or  the 
wind  that  fills  the  sails,  and  the  pilot  that  sits  at  the 
helm,  from  the  vessel  wlich  tlxC  oi^e  steers  and  the 
other  impels. 

And  indeed  the  soul  itself  gives,  in  various  instan- 
ces, very  strong  indications  that  this  is  actually  the 
case.  That  power  which  it  sometimes  exerts,  when 
immersed  in  profound  thought,  of  abstracting  itself,  of 
being  absent  as  it  were  from  the  body,  and  pa}  ing  no 
regard  to  the  impressions  made  upon  it  by  external 
dejects  ;  that  authority  by  which  it  corrects  and  over- 
rules the  reports  made  to  it  by  the  senses,  for  m  hich 
it  frequently  substitutes  the  conclusions  of  its  own, 
judgment ;  that  facility  with  which,  by  turning  the 
mental  eye  inward,  and  contemplating  itself  and  all  its 
wonderful  operations,  in  the  management  of  its  inter- 
nal stores,  it  forms  a  v.tw  set  of  ideas  peculiarly  its  own, 
purely  intellectual  and  spiritual* ;  that  vigor  v\  hich 
it  sometimes  manifests  in  the  most  excruciating  dis- 
orders, and  even  at  the  approach  of  death,  when  its 
earthly  tenement  is  all  shattered  and  decayed  ;  the  es- 
sential difference  there  is  between  the  pains  and  pleas- 
ures of  the  body  and  of  the  mind  ;  the  emotions  often 
raised  in  us,  without  any  external  impression,  by  the 
eminent  virtues  of  great  and  good  men,  in  distant  ages 
and  countries  ;  the  astonishing  activity  and  vivacity, 
the  fertility  of  invention,  and  rapidity  of  transition, 
which  the  soul  frequeritly  displays  in  dreams,  when 
the  body,  and  all  its  senses  and  powers,  are  benumbed 
and  locked  up  in  sleep  ;  tlic  variety  of  unexpected 
scenes  which  it  then,  by  a  kind  of  enchantment,  raises 
up  to  view  ;  the  strange  and  unheard-of  persons,  places 
incidents,  and  conversations,  it  sometimes  creates,  to- 
tally unconaected  with  any  occurrences  of  the  precc- 

Lcchc,  b.  ii.  ch.  1.  s.  4. 


54  SERMON    V. 

ding  day,  and  of  which  not  the  smallest  traces  are  to 
be  found  in  the  memory  ;  and  above  all,  that  astonish- 
ing, j^et  well-attested  phenomenon  of  sleep-walk- 
ing, where,  though  the  eyes  are  insensible  to  all  ex- 
ternal impressions,  and  sometimes  entirely  closed,  yet 
the  SOMNAMBULIST  directs  himself  with  unerring  cer- 
tainty through  the  most  intricate  windings,  and  over 
the  most  dangerous  precipices,  and,  w  ithout  any  ap- 
parent assistance  from  the  organs  of  sense,  has  been 
known  to  read,  write,  and  compose  -^"^ ;  all  these  cir- 
cumstances taken  together,  must  be  allowed  to  form 
a  very  strong  accumulation  of  evidence,  that  our  think- 
ing part  is  something  more  than  mere  organ'ical  me- 
chanism^ something,  in  short,  distinct,  and  capable  of 
acting  separately  from  our  corporeal  framef. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  there  are  many  cases  in  which  the 
mind  appears  to  be  considerably  affected  by  the  state 
and  circumstances  of  the  body.  But  all  these  appear- 
ances will  admit  as  easily  a  solution  from  the  hypothe- 
sis of  two  distinct  essences,  closely  united,  and  power- 
fully sympathizing  with  each  other,  as  from  the  sup- 
position of  our  being  one  single,  simple,  uncompound- 
ed,  homogeneous  substance. 

If  then  the  preceding  remarks  ha^•e  rendered  it  highly 
probable  that  we  are  endued  v.ith  a  principle  of  percep- 
tion distinct  fi-om  the  body  ;  the  main  point,  respecting 
the  capacity  of  the  soul  to  survive  the  grave,  is  estab- 
lished ;  and,  although  it  may  be  extremely  useful  and 
satisfactory  to  the  mind,  yet  it  is  not  absolutely  essential 
to  the  argument,  to  prove  that  the  soul  is  formed  of  a 
different  kind  of  substance  from  the  body,  or  in  oilier 
words  that  it  is  immaterial.  For  even  granting  for  a  mo- 
ment, (v.'hat  I  trust  will  very  soon  appear  to  be  inadmis- 
sible) that  it  is  nothing  more  than  a  system  oforganized 

■*  See  a  most  extraonlinaiy  and  well-authenticated  instance  of  this  in  the 
Encyclopedie,  article  Soinnarnhide. 

t  Even  one  of  the  inany  circumsta'iccs  here  collected  together,  viz.  tlie 
vigor  and  vivaciy  which  the  mind  iVcquently  displays,  when  the  body  is  al- 
most worn  out  with  pain,  sickness,  and  old  age,  had  force  enough  to  con- 
vince a  celebrated  vrit,  infidel,  and  libertine  of  the  last  century  (but  who  af- 
terwards beame  a  sincere  convert  to  Christianity)  that  the  soul  was  a  sub- 
stance totally  distinct  from  the  bodv,  Bee  Bp,  Burnzi's  accur.t  of  Lard  Ro- 
chester, 5th 'ed.  p.  20.  21. 


SERMON  V.  55 

matter ;  yet,  since  it  is,  by  the  supposition,  distinct  from 
the  body,  it  docs  by  no  means  follow,  that  ^vhen  the 
body  dies,  tlie  sentient  system  ^vill  also  be  dissolved 
and  perish.  The  same  Almighty  Being  that  could 
superadd  to  dead  matter,  so  extraordinary  and  so  un- 
likely a  power  as  that  of  thought,  could  also,  if  he 
pleased,  with  precisely  the  same  ease,  superadd  to  it 
the  still  fiuthcr  power  of  surviving  the  grave.  A  ma' 
terhi/ soul,  therefore,  muy  still,  for  any  thing  we  know 
to  the  contrary,  be  an  i?nmortal  one.  But  at  the  same 
time,  it  must  be  confessed,  an  incorporeal  essence  bids 
so  much  fairer  for  immortality,  ancl  is  v,  ithal  an  opin- 
ion which  has  so  much  better  grounds  to  support  it, 
that  I  shall  intreat  your  patience,  while  I  just  touch  as 
concisely  as  possible,  on  a  fev/  of  the  principal  argu- 
ments w  hich  are  usually  adduced  in  favor  of  this  doc- 
trine. 

It  has  been  repeatedly  shown,  by  some  of  the  ablest 
philosophers  and  metaphysicians,  that  the  complex  na- 
ture, the  di\  isibility,  and  the  inertness  of  matter,  are 
totally  inconsistent  -with  perception,  thought,  con- 
sciousness, spontaneous  motion,  and  all  the  other  active 
and  simple  powers  which  evidently  distinguish  our 
mental  part ;  that  all  the  possible  arrangements,  com.- 
binations,  and  modifications  of  figure  aiid  motion,  can 
generate  nothing  but  figure  and  motion, andthat  it  is  just 
as  credible,  that  the  union  of  a  taste  and  color  should 
produce  a  sound,  as  that  any  thing  so  totally  remote 
from  all  resemblance  to  the  pjoperties  of  body,  as  in- 
telligence plainly  is,  should  result  from  the  mechanic- 
al operations  of  any  corporeal  system,  however  curi- 
ously contrived,  disposed,  or  organized. 

Arguments  of  this  kind,  if  unfolded  and  pursued  to 
their  full  extent,  would  afford  very  satisfactory  proofs 
of  an  incorporeal  percipient.  But  I  forbear  leading  you 
further  into  such  discussions  ;  not  only  because  they 
are  unsuitable  to  this  place,  and  would  bewilder  us  in 
an  endless  labyrinth  of  minute  and  abstruse  investiga- 
tions, but  also  for  this  plain  reason  ;  because,  after  all, 
it  might  be  said,  that,  although   peiceplion  and  ref.ec- 


56  SERMON  V. 

tion  cannot  perhaps  be  ih^  natural  result  of  mereniattef 
and  motion,  yet  God  certainly  may,  if  he  thinks  fit,- 
superjiaturally  annex  them  to  a  system  of  organized 
matter,  such  as  the  medullary  substance  of  the  brain 
probably  is. 

Now  it  woiild  undoubtedly  be  presumptous  in  man 
to  decide  with  peremptory  boldness,  what  is,  or  what  is 
not,  possible  for  his  Creator  to  do,  and  to  prescribe 
bounds  to  his  almighty  power  ;  but  thus  m.uch  we  may 
be  allowed  to  say,  that  Omnipotence  itself  cannot  work 
a  contradiction  ;  and  to  our  weak  apprehensions  it  has 
very  much  the  appearance  of  a  contradiction,  to  ingraft 
self-motion,  activity,  intelligence,  volition,  conscious- 
ness, simplicity,  and  indivisibility,  on  a  dead  clod  of 
earth  ;  on  a  substance,  which  if  ^ve  may  either  credit 
our  senses,  or  the  sentiments  of  the  most  eminent  plii- 
losophers,  is  a  solid,  extended,  compound,  divisible 
mass,  incapable  of  changing  its  own  state,  and  making 
resistance  to  motion*.  For,  refine  and  subtilize  matter 
as  much  as  you  please,  yet  still  it  must  retain  its  essen- 
tial characteristic  properties  ;  and  it  is  not  very  credi- 
ble that  it  should  have  two  diilerent  sets  of  properties 
belonging  to  it,  equally  essential,  and  diametrically  op- 
posite to  each  other.  Of  such  an  union  as  this,  we 
have  no  instance  in  nature,  nor  is  there  any  analogy 
that  can  lead  us  to  expect  it,  or  think  it  possible.  No- 
thing less,  one  should  think,  could  induce  any  one  to 
adopt  so  harsh  a  conclusion,  than  tlie  clearest  and  most 
clecishc  ei}iclc?ice  that  there  cannot  possibly  be  any  such 
thins:  as  an  immaterial  substance.     But  so  far  is  this 

o 

from  being  capable  of  proof,  that  the  actual  existence 
of  such  substances  is  a  truth  wliich  rests  on  the  highest 

^  The  reader  will  perceive  that  here,  and  in  other  parts  of  this  discourse, 
I  adhere  to  the  received  opinion  of  the  solidity,  impenetrability,  and  vis  inertiie 
of  matter.  At  the  same  time,  I  am  not  ignorant  that  it  has  of  late  been  con- 
troverted, and  a  very  dift'erent  system  advanced,  by  men  of  considerable  abil- 
ity. But,  notwithstanding  the  great  ingenuity  of  their  arguments,  I  must 
confess  myself  not  very  willing  to  abandon  the  principloi  of  such  men  as 
Locke,  Clarke,  Newton,  Maciaurln,  8cc  &c'.  ;  and  perhaps  the  intelligent 
reader  will  be  disposed  to  think  this  attachment  to  old  opinions,  something 
more  than  early  prejudice,  when  he  has  perused  with  care  Mr.  De  Lite's 
Letters  Morales  et  Physiques,  torn.  i.  D.  10,  11,  13,  13,  14  ;  wh.ere  he  will  find 
this  very  abstruse  r[uestion  discussed,  and  in  my  conception  decided,  with  a 
truly  phylosophical  penetration,  clearness,  and  precision. 


SERMON   V.  5? 

authority,  and  is  supported  by  arguments  which  have 
never  yet  been  overthrown. 

In  the  very  first  dawn  of  philosophy,  two  sorts  of  sub- 
stances, essentially  difterent  from  each  other,  were  sup- 
posed to  exist,  which  were  distinguished  by  the  names 
of  MIND  and  BODY.  This  distinction  was  expressly 
maintained  by  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  almost  all  the  an- 
cient Theists,  from  Thales  down  to  Seneca.  Many 
of  them  held  also,  that  body,  or  matter,  was  in  its 
own  nature  essentially  passive,  inert,  and  incapable  of 
moving  itself,  and  that  the  only  active  power  in  the 
universe  ^vas  mind,  or  incorporeal  substance*.  This 
great  principle  they  supposed  to  be  diffused  through 
every  part  of  nature  f  ;  they  conceive  it  to  be  the  im- 
mediate cause  of  vegetation,  and  animal  life,  and  intel- 
ligence, and  they  seem  to  have  thought  it  impossible 
that  there  ever  should  have  been  any  such  thing  as 
motion  in  the  world,  had  there  never  been  any  substance 
existing  in  it  but  matter  .t. 

This  idea  instead  of  being  reprobated  by  the  won- 
derful discoveries  and  superior  lights  of  modern  philo- 
sophy, receives,  on  the  contrary,  the  amplest  confirma- 
tion from  them.  It  is  well  known  to  be  an  establish- 
ed principle  of  this  philosophy,  to  be  laid  down  as  the 

*  ^Inetvuletlex,  hS^dyJai  '■^v^/i  Tm  TTdvluv  Tr^iToifJoc})},  'yDief/.svT}  re  cc°X''> 
MiTfi-iuc,.     Plato  de  Leg.  I.  x.  /i.  952.  Ed.  Fie. 

Tii$  jttsv  wAjjs  to  TTxe-^eiv  iri  aeci  to  xmi"6cir  to  S'e  y.iviiv  y.cu  to  Troieii 
tTi^ct^  ^vicciuuT.  Aristotle  de  Qcn  iJf  Corn/fit.  l.  h.  c.  9.  ft.  407.  Sec 
alio  F/iys.  I.  viii.  c.  5.  p.  325.  cifid  Metaliliij.^ics  I.  xU.  c.  l.fi.  741. 
And  in  his  book  de  Anim.  1.  i.  c.  2.  he  gives  the  opinions  of  several 
antient  philosophers  concerning  mind,  of  whom  the  greater  part 
agree  in  making  it  the  principle  of  motion. 

■\  See  those  well-known  and  beautiful  lines  in  Virgil :  Prlncipio  aelum  n 
terras,  etc.  En.  l.  \\.v.  724.  And  again,  Deum  naiwiue  irt  psr  oituies,  etc. 
Georg.  iv.  1).  221. 

J  On  these  principles  of  the  ancient  philosophy,  is  founded  the  plastic 
NATURE  of  the  profound  and  learned  Cudworth  ;  and  also  that  hypothesis 
of  the  universal  dominion  of  mind,  and  the  existence  of  a  distinct,  internal, 
active  principle  in  every  part  of  nature  (not  excepting  even  inanimate  sub- 
stances) which  is  maintained  by  the  very  ingenious  author  of  a  book  latelr 
published,  entitled  Antient  Metaphysics.  This  system  few,  I  conceive,  will  be 
disposed  to  admit  in  all  its  extent  ;  but  yet  the  lovers  of  antient  learning  and 
philosophy  will  receive  from  it  much  curious  information  ;  and  the  advocates 
for  immaterialism  will  find  in  it  some  new  arguments  ioi  that  doctrine  welt 
worthy  their  attention. 

H 


58  SERMON  V. 

first  and  fundamental  law  of  nature,  tliat  matter  is  irt 
itself  perfectly  mact'ii^s^  and  incapable  cf  changing  the 
state  it  happens  to  be  in,  whether  of  motion  or  of  rest ; 
and  that  consequently  all  the  motion  now  in  the  world 
(unless  you  suppose  it  to  have  been  eternal)  must  have 
derived  its  origin  from  an  immaterial  agent.  Nor  is 
this  all.  Some  of  the  most  illustrious  disciples  of  the 
Newtonian  school  contend  llirther,  that  not  only  the 
origin  of  motion,  but  the  continuance  of  it  also,  requires 
the  perpetual  agency  of  something  difterent  from,  and 
superior  to,  matter.  They  think  it  clear  to  demonstra- 
tion, that  all  the  great  movements  of  the  universe  are 
both  produced  and  carried  on  by  the  unremitted  exer- 
tions of  some  immaterial  power  ;  and  that  the  existence 
and  operation  of  such  a  power  is  not  only  probable  but 
certain,  and  even  absolutely  necessary  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  course  and  order  of  nature*.  The  great 
Author  of  nature  himself,  is  confessedly  an  incorporeal 
being.  He  was  acknowledged  to  be  so  by  the  most 
sagacious  of  the  antient  metaphysicians!  ;  and  the  most 
celebrated  of  the  modern,  not  only  thought  that  the 
immateriality  of  the  Supreme  Being  was  demonstra- 
ble, but  that  he  had  himself  demonstrated  itf . 

Assuming  it  therefore  as  an  undoubted  truth,  that 
there  is  one  incorporeal  Being  at  least  in  the  world,  it 
follows  that  there  may  he  more.  And  when  we  con- 
sider by  what  gradual  and  easy  steps  the  scale  of  ex- 
istence ascends  from  inanimate  matter  up  to  man  ;  and 

•  See  Clarke's  Dem.  p.  74.  D°'sEvid.  of  Nat.  and  Rev.  R.cligion,  p.  14, 
22.  lOih  ed.  And  Maclaiirin's  Account  of  ijir  Isaac  Newton's  Philosophv, 
b.  iv.  c  9.  s.  12,  13  p.  387. 

Add  to  this,  what  has  been  asserted,  and  I  think  proved,  by  writers  cf 
considerable  eniineiKC,  that  the  properties  of  corpuscular  attraction  and  re- 
pulsion, observable  in  all  material  substar.ces,  and  appealed  to  sometimes  as 
proofs  of  their  acnvity,  are  not  powers  inherent  in  the  substances  them- 
selves (which  in  that  case  must,  in  contradiction  to  an  established  rule  in 
philosophy,  act  luktre-thej  are  not,  that  is,  at  a  distance  fioin  their  own  sur- 
faces) bur  the  eft'ects  oi  some  actl'ce  principle,  entirely  distinct  and  essentisUjT 
different  from  matter.  Sir  Isaac  Newton  himself  seems  to  have  had  some 
idea  of  this  kind  in  his  thoughts.     Optics   2d  ed.  p.  376,  377. 

t  A)ist.  Metaphv  I.  xii.  c.  7.  p.  742,  and  lU^t  Z-^-wwr,  p.  944. 
Nee  vero  Deus  ipse  alio  nnodo  intelligi  potest,  nisi  mens  soluta  queedam  & 
libera.     Tusc  Qiixst.  1.  i.  c  27. 

X  iVlr.  Locke's  Essav  en  Hum.  Und.  b.  iv.  c.  3.  s.  6  ;  no;e  p.  167  ;  and  b, 
iv.  c.  10.  p.  245-  250. 


SERMON    V.  50 

what  an  infinite  number  of  crcaturer;  of  diflcrent  or- 
ders and  properties  are  comprehended  within  these 
limits,  it  is  very  natural  to  concUide,  that,  in  the  in- 
visible world  above  us  in  tl^ie  inmieasurable  dis- 
tance between  us  and  the  father  of  spirits, 
there  is  a  fur  longer  series  and  progression  of 
spiritual  beings,  each  rising  above  the  other  in  pu- 
rity and  perfection,  than  of  material  substances  below 
us.  This  idea  of  the  invisible  world  is  well  suited  to 
our  conceptions  of  the  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness 
of  our  almighty  Creator,  and  to  tliat  grandeur,  regu- 
larity, order,  and  harmony,  which  reign  throughout 
the  universe-^'. 

Let  us  now  see  the  result  of  this  enquiry.  It  may 
be  drawn  into  a  very  narrow  compass. 

It  appears  that  there  are  the  best  grounds  for  assert- 
ing, not  only  the  possible^  but  the  actual,  existence  of 

INCORPOrvEAL     SUBSTANCES. 

It  is  certain  also,  that  such  substances  are  capable  of 
active  and  intellectual  powers  ;  for  of  such  powers,  infi- 
nitely ex..lted,  is  the  Supreme  Being  himself  possessed. 

At  the  same  time,  we  sec  around  us  other  substan- 
ces of  a  very  differe:it  nature,  whicli  we  call  material 
or  corporeal  ;  and  which  not  only  evidently  appear  to  our 
senses  to  be  inert,  sluggish,  passive  bodies,  utterly  void 
of  sensation,  intelligence,  and  spontaneous  motion,  but 
have,  by  the  most  diligent  enquiries  into  nature,  been 
pronounced  absolutely  incapable  of  those  properties. 

Now  to  one  of  those  two  classes  of  substances 
must  that  active,  lively,  conscious,  thinking,  reflect- 
ing power  within  us,  which  we  call  the  soul,  belong. 
Let  reason  ;  let  the  common  sense  of  mankind  deter- 
mine which  of  them  it  is. 

On  this  short  simple  issue,  must  the  question  be- 
fore us  ultimately  rest.  We  leave  it  to  every  man  to 
decide  for  himself,  and  a  plain  unbiassed  understand- 
ing cannot  decide  wrong. 

Difficulties,  it  must  be  allowed,  there  are,  attend- 
ing even  the  most  probable  of  these  two   opinions, 

*  Essay  on  Hum.  Und.  b.  iii.  c.  6.  s.  12. 


m  SERMON   V. 

that  of  an  immaterial  soul.  But  in  the  apprehension 
of  most  men,  I  believe,  they  are  not  to  be  compared 
with  those  that  encumber  the  contrary  system.  To 
suppose  that  the  human  mind,  with  all  its  wonderful 
faculties  and  powers,  is  formed  of  materials  essentially 
the  same  with  the  pebble  we  tread  under  our  feet ;  and 
that  a  mass  of  lead,  if  properly  organized,  is  capable 
of  the  sublimest  flights  of  imagination,  and  of  all  the 
various  attainments  and  exertions  of  the  most  active, 
vigorous,  and  comprehensive  understanding  ;  is  sure- 
ly more  repugnant  to  the  natural  conceptions  of  man- 
kind, and  does  more  violence  to  the  very  first  princi- 
ples of  what  has  been  hitherto  deemed  the  soundest 
philosophy,  than  any  difficulties  that  may  embarrass 
the  doctrine  of  an  incorporeal  percipient.  Even  Mr. 
Locke  himself,  who  had  certainly  no  unreasonable 
prejudices  against  the  capacities  of  matter,  and  must 
therefore  be  allowed  to  be  a  very  impartial  as  well  as  a 
very  able  judge  of  the  point  now  before  us  ;  even  he, 
after  maturely  weighing  the  arguments  and  objections 
on  both  sides  of  the  question,  acknowledges  it  to  be 
m  the  highest  degree  probable^  that  the  soul  of  man  is 
immaterial^. 

We  may  therefore  safely  venture  to  pronounce  tliis 
opinion  to  be  most  consonant  to  reason  and  philoso- 
phy, as  vvell  as  to  the  most  received  notions  of  man- 
kind. The  necessary  consequence  of  this  is,  that  a 
man  is  a  compound  beings  consisting  of  a  material 
body,  and  an  immaterial  soul,  intimately  and  vitally 
united  together  ;  each  preserving  its  own  powers  and 
attributes  distinct,  yet  acting  in  perfect  concord  and 
harmony  with  each  other,  In  what  manner,  and  by 
what  means,  they  are  so  united,  and  how  two  such 
dissimilar  substances  can  reciprocally  influence  and 
act  upon  each  other,  is  indeed  more  than  we  are  able 

*  Essay  on  Hum.  Und.  b.  Iv.  c.  3.  s.  6.  Note,  p.  141,  and  143.  Wliilst  I 
know,  by  seeing  or  hearing,  &c.  that  there  is  so.ne  corporeal  being  without 
ine,  the  object  of  that  sensation,  I  do  inore  certainly  hnov:,  that  there  is  some 
^pi'iturd being  within  me,  that  sees  and  hears.  This  I  Tiiiist  be  convinced  caU' 
not  be  the  action  of  bare  insensible  matter  ;  nor  ever  could  be,  -witiJout  an  iirt: 
inatcriai  thinkivg  being.    lb.  b.  xj.  ch,  23.  s.  15.  p.  255, 


SERMON    V.  61 

to  comprehend.  But  this  can  never  be  justly  urged 
against  the  reality  of  such  an  union,  unless  it  be  laid 
down  as  a  maxim  in  philosophy,  that  the  strength  or 
weakness  of  our  conceptions  is  the  measure  of  truth 
and  falsehood,  and  that  every  thing  which  we  do  not 
perfectly  understand  is  therefore  impossible.  We  can 
just  as  easily  conceive  the  connexion  and  mutual  influ- 
ence of  soul  and  body,  as  we  can  explain  how  the  mi- 
nute component  particles  of  matter  cohere  so  firmly  to- 
gether, as  to  form  what  wc  call  solid  extension  ;  how 
the  whole  process  of  vegetation  is  carried  on  through 
all  its  successive  stages  ;  how  the  food  of  animals  is 
converted  into  nutriment,  and  contributes  to  their  sup- 
port and  grow  th ;  how  finite  matter  can  be  infinitely 
divisible ;  and  how  two  mathematical  lines,  indefinite- 
ly produced,  can  be  for  e\er  approaching  each  other, 
and  yet  never  meet*.  When  these,  and  a  thousand 
other  truths,  equally  incomprehensible,  yet  incontro- 
vertible, in  almost  every  branch  of  science,  and  eve- 
ry part  of  nature,  are  made  perfectly  clear  and  intelli- 
gible, it  will  then  be  time  enough  to  show  how  the 
soul  and  body  are  linked  together,  and  rendered  capa- 
ble of  acting  on  each  other. 

In  the  mean  while,  it  is  evident,  that  in  the  wide 
range  of  creation  there  was  sufficient  room  for  such  a 
combination  as  this  ;  and  reasoning  from  analogy,  it 
was  natural  to  suppose  that  there  should  be,  somewhere 
or  other,  such  a  complex  being  as  man,  composed  of 
a  material  body  and  an  immaterial  soul,  and  thus  uniting 
together  the  visible  and  invisible  world  ;  just  as,  in  the 
various  orders  and  gradations  of  beings  ascending  up 
to  man,  we  see  that  in  passing  from  one  class  of  exist- 
ence to  another,  there  is  always  some  one  species  that 

*  Nous  ne  savons  ni  comment  nous  recevons  la  vie,  ni  comment  nous  la 
donnons,  ni  comment  nous  croissons,  ni  coiriment  nous  digerons,  ni  com- 
7nent  nous  dormons,  ni  comment  nous  pensons,  ni  comment  nous  sentons. 
Notre  nature,  celle  de  I'univers,  celle  de  la  moindre  plante,  tout  est  pbnge 
pour  nous  dans  un  gouffre  de  tenebres.     Voltaire,     ^cstions  sur  r£ncyciope- 

die,  article  Ame.  p.  176,  190 !sit  not  astonishing  ihataman,  whocould 

thus  frankly  acknowledge  the  inscrutable  mysteries  of  nature,  in  almost 
every  part  of  the  universe,  should  yet  object  to  and  ridicule  the  mysteries  of 
|<evelation,  and  consider  them  as  iin  insuperable  bar  lo  the  belief  of  it  i 


£2  SERMON   V. 

seems  to  partake  of  the  nature  of  both  :  which  is,  as  k 
were  the  link  that  ties  them  together,  and  forms  the 
common  boundary  between  inanimate  matter  and  vege- 
tation ;  between  vegetation  and  animal  hfe  ;  betVv  ccn 
animal  life  and  intellect. 

This  union  then  of  the  two  constituent  parts  of  the 
human  frame,  subsists  till  it  is  dissolved  by  death  ; 
which  we  have  no  reason  to  think  can  have  any  other 
effect  upon  the  soul,  than  that  of  disuniting  it  from  the 
body.  For  the  former  is,  as  we  have  seen,  a  sentient 
principle  totally  distinct  from  the  latter.  It  may  there- 
fore continue  to  exist,  and  to  think,  when  the  body  is 
reduced  to  dust ;  and  if  it  be  moreover  (as  we  have 
shewn  to  be  highly  probable)  incorporeal,  it  cannot  be 
subject  to  that  decomposition  of  parts  which  occasions 
the  dissolution  of  the  body.  Our  whole  corporeal  frame 
undergoes,  we  know,  an  entire  change,  probably  more 
than  once,  during  the  course  of  our  lives  ;  yet  the  soul 
continues  all  the  while  invariably  the  same.  Why  then 
may  it  not  also  survive,  unaltered,  that  total  change  of 
the  body,  which  is  occasioned  all  at  once  by  death,  as 
well  as  the^;Wz/(2/ one,  Vvhich  is  produced  by  other 
causes  ?  The  presumption  most  certainly  is,  that  it  will, 
unless  any  proof  of  the  contrary  can  be  given,  which  I 
conceive  it  will  not  be  very  easy  to  do*.  Our  Almigh- 
ty Creator  may  undoubtedly,  if  he  thinks  fit,  by  an  ex- 
traordinary act  of  his  power,  put  a  period  even  to  our 
immaterial  part,  when  its  frail  companion  dies.  But 
there  is  no  imaginable  reason  for  supposing  that  he  Vvill. 
The  body  itself  is  not  totally  destroyed  by  death.  It  is 
only  reduced  to  a  different  state  of  existence.  It  loses 
life  and  motion,  and  its  organical  mechanism  is  broken 
in  pieces  ;  but  its  component  elem.entary  materials  still 
remain  ;  and  there  is  no  instance,  as  far  as  we  know, 
of  any  one  particle  of  matter  being  annihilated  through- 
out the  universe.  AVhy,  then,  should  \ve  imagine 
that  the  soul  will,  after  its  separation  from  the  body, 
be  deprived  of  all  existence,  when  nothing  else  in  na- 

*  See  Eutkr's  Analosr-.-,  c.  1. 


SERMON  V.  G3 

tcre  is  ?  To  assert,  as  Lucretius  and  others  have  done*, 
that  it  cannot  exist,  or  retain  perception,  thought,  and 
reason,  without  the  assistance  of  the  body,  and  the 
organs  of  sense,  is  a  conckision  too  unphilosophical 
for  the  present  age  to  admit.  In  this  visible  world, 
indeed,  and  the  state  of  existence  here  assigned  to  the 
soul,  the  concurrence  and  assistance  of  a  certain 
s}'stem  of  organized  matter,  are  rendered  necessary 
for  carrying  on,  and  producing  to  view  its  various 
operations.  But  to  infer  from  hence,  that  such  a 
system  will  be  also  indespensably  necessary  in  another 
state,  in  that  invisible  world  which  immediately  suc- 
ceeds this,  and  where  there  may  be  various  modes  of 
existence  totally  unknown  to  us  at  present,  is  to 
aflirm,  what  no  human  being  (unless  like  St.  Paul, 
he  has  been  caught  up  into  the  third  heaven)  can 
possibly  prove.  On  the  contrary,  it  has  been  shown 
that  the  actual  existence  of  such  a  thing  as  an  imma- 
terial, unembodicd,  intellectual  essence,  is  so  far  from 
involving  any  contradiction,  that  it  is  by  many  thought 
to  be  ckmonstrable-\. 

The  very  nature,  then,  of  the  human  soul  itself,  as 
far  as  we  are  capable  of  comprehending  it,  gives  us 
the  strongest  ground  to  believe  that  it  is  immortal.  But 
it  ought  at  the  same  time  to  be  observed,  and  it  is 
an  observation  of  great  invnortance  in  this  question, 
that  although  the  supposition  of  an  immaterial  soul 
surviving  the  dissolution  of  the  body  is,  as  we  have 
seen,  a  doctrine  in  the  highest  degree  probable,  and 
undoubtedly  adds  no  small  credibility  and  force  to 
the  other  evidences  of  a  future  state  ;  yet  the  great 
proofs,  the  great  natural  and  r/O/'r// proofs,  I  mean  (for 
to  these  only  our  present  enquiries  extend)  of  this 
most  comfortable  truth,  rest  on  ([uite  a  different 
foundvition  ;  6n  that  firm  and  immoveable  founda- 
tion, the  belief  of  a  moral  governor  of  the  tmi- 
versc,  infinite  in  wisdom,  justice,  goodness,  and  pow- 

*  Lt/c/etius,  I.  iil.  1).  559  aWCol.  Nequc  aliud  ebt  quldquam,  cur  incredi- 
bilishis  vldeutur  animonini,  pitemita?,  nisi  qiicd  r.equcunt,  <fMC/i*  tiiihiius   sit 

'Oiicar.s  ccrpcrc  :r.:c!:Jfi::rc.     7;:*r.  Slu>est.  t.  i.  c.  22. 
-J  See  ubovc,  n.  i'd. 


64  SERMON  V. 

cr.  A  being  such  as  this,  let  the  nature  of  the  hiiman 
soul  be  what  it  will,  can  raise  it,  if  he  pleases,  from 
any  supposable  situation  after  death,  to  another  state 
of  existence,  and  restore  to  it  that  perception  of  its 
identity,  that  consciousness  of  its  former  sentiments 
and  conduct,  which  will  render  it  a  proper  subject  of 
punishment  or  reward.  Should  it  therefore  appear 
(as  in  the  two  following  discourses  I  trust  it  will)  that 
from  considering  the  nature  and  attributes  of  God,  the 
faculties  of  man,  and  the  constitution  of  the  world  in 
which  he  is  placed,  there  are  the  best  grounds  for  be- 
lieving that  he  is  an  accountable  beings  we  may  rest 
assured,  that  of  ivhate'uer  materials  his  sentient  part  is 
composed.  Omnipotence  will  not  w^ant  the  means  of 
placing  him  hereafter  in  an  accountable  state. 


SERMON  VI. 


Mattkew  XXV.  46. 

And  these   shall  go  aivay  into  everlasting  fiunishment  :    but     the 
righteous  into  life   eternal. 

THE  arguments  advanced  in  the  foregoing  dis- 
course, are,  I  conceive,  sufficient  to  shew,  that, 
as  far  as  Ave  are  able  to  comprehend  the  nature  of  the 
human  soul,  we  have  reason  to  conclude  it  is  a  distinct 
and  an  immaterial  substance,  and  of  course  capable 
of  surviving  the  dissolution  of  the  body.  But  these, 
as  I  have  already  observed  are  far  from  being  the  only 
or  the  most  decisive  proofs  of  a  future  existence. 
There  are  other  still  plainer  and  more  satisfactory 
evidences  of  that  important  truth,  discoverable  even 
by  the  light  of  nature,  which  I  shall  now  proceed  to 
open  and  lay  before  you. 

I.  Consider,  in  the  first  place,  the  many  excellent 
fiiculties  of  the  human  soul;  the  imagination,  memo- 
ry, reason,  judgment,  will  ;  the  vast  variety  and  rapidity 
of  its  operations  ;  the  power  it  has  of  receiving  such 
a  multitude  of  ideas  from  external  objects ;  of  de- 
positing them  in  the  store-house  of  the  memory  for 
many  years;  of  drav/iiig  them  out  again  for  use  when- 
ever it  thinks  fit ;  of  comparing,  arranging,  combining, 
and  diversifying  them  in  such  an  infinite  number  of 
ways  ;  of  reflecting,  meditating,  and  reasoning  upon 
them  ;  of  comprehending  such  a  prodigious  number 
ofdiflcrent  arts  and  sciences  ;  of  creating  the  exquisite 
beauties  and  refined  delights   of  music,   painting  and 

I 


66  SERMON  VI. 

pioetry  *  of  carrying  on,  through  a  long  train  of  tTc- 
pendent  propositions,  the  most  abstruse  and  intricate 
speculations;  of  extracting,  from  a  few  plain,  self- 
evident  axioms,  a  demonstration  of  the  most  sublime 
and  astonishing  truths ;  of  penetrating  into  every 
part  of  the  material,  the  vegetable,  the  animal,  the 
intellectual  world  ;  of  conceiving  and  executing  so 
many  wise  and  beneficial  designs  ;  of  turning  its  eye 
inward  upon  itself;  of  observing  and  regulating  its 
own  movements;  of  refining,  purifying,  and  exalt- 
ing its  affections  ;  of  bringing  itself,  by  a  proper  course 
of  discipline  and  self-government  to  bear  with  patience 
the  acutest  pains  and  the  heaviest  afflictions  :  to  face 
with  intrepidity  the  greatest  dangers ;  to  restrain  its 
strongest  passions  ;  to  resist  the  most  inviting  tempta- 
tions ;  to  exert,  upon  occasion,  the  most  heroic  forti- 
tude ;  to  renounce,  for  the  sake  of  conscience  and  of  du-  I 
ty,  all  that  this  world  has  to  eive  ;  to  abstract  itself  from 
all  earthly  enjoyments  ;  to  live  as  it  were  out  of  the  bo- 
dy ;  to  carry  its  views  and  hopes  to  the  remotest  futu- 
rity, and  raise  itself  to  the  contemplation  and  the  love 
of  divine  and  spiritual  things.  Consider,  now,  wheth- 
er it  be  probable,  that  a  being  possessed  of  such  aston- 
ishing powers  as  these,  should  be  designed  for  this  life 
only  ;  should  be  sent  so  richly  furnished  into  the  world 
merely  to  live  a  few  years  in  anxiety  and  misery,  and 
then  to  perish  for  ever  ?  Is  it  credible,  is  it  possible, 
that  the  m.ighty  soul  of  Ne^vton  should  share  exactly 
the  same  fate  with  the  vilest  insect  that  crawls  upon  the 
ground  ;  that,  after  having  laid  open  the  mysteries  of 
nature,  and  pushed  its  discoveries  almost  to  the  very 
bour.d:.ries  of  the  universe,  it  should  on  a  sudden  have 
all  its  lights  at  once  extinguished,  and  sink  into  ever- 
lasting darkricss  and  insensibility  ?  To  what  purpose  all 
this  waste  and  profusion  of  talents,  if  their  operation  is 
to  be  limited  to  this  short  period  of  existence?  Why 
are  we  made  so  like  immortal  beings,  if  mortality  is  to 
be  our  lot  ?  ^Vhat  need  was  there,  that  this  little  vessel 
of  ours  should  be  fitted  out  and  provided  with  stores 
sufiicient  to  carry  it  tlirough  the  vast  ocean  of  eternity^ 


SERMON  VI.  67 

if,  at  the  same  time,  its  voyage  was  meant  to  be  confin- 
ed v.  ithin  the  narrow  straits  of  the  present  life  ?  In- 
stinct \\  ould  have  served  for  this  purpose  as  well  as 
reason,  would  have  conducted  us  through  the  Morld 
Avith  as  much  safety,  and  with  less  pain,  than  all  our 
boasted  intellectual  endowments. 

II.  Another  presumption  in  favor  of  a  future  state, 
is  the  perpetual  progress  of  the  soul  towards  perfection ^ 
and  its  endless  capacity  of  further  improvements  and 
Lirger  acquisitions.  This  argument  has  been  set  in  so 
strong  and  beautiful  a  light,  by  one  of  our  finest  writers*, 
that  it  is  hardly  possible  to' do  justice  to  it  in  any  other 
words  than  his  own.  "  A  brute,"  says  he,  *'  arrives 
at  a  point  of  perfection,  which  he  can  never  pass.  In 
a  i^w  years,  he  has  all  the  endowments  he  is  capable  of, 
and  were  he  to  live  ten  thousand  more,  he  would  be 
tlie  same  thing  he  is  at  present.  Were  a  human  soul 
thus  at  a  stand  in  her  accomplishments  ;  were  her  fac- 
ulties full  blown,  and  incapable  of  further  enlargement ; 
I  could  imagine  she  might  fall  away  insensibly,  and 
then  drop  at  once  into  a  state  of  annihilation.  But  who 
can  believe  that  a  thinking  being,  which  is  in  a  perpetu- 
al progress  of  improvements,  and  travelling  on  from 
perfection  to  perfection,  must  perish  at  her  first  setting- 
out,  and  be  stopped  short  in  the  very  beginning  of  her 
enquiries  ?  Death  overtakes  her,  while  there  is  yet  an 
unbounded  prospect  of  knowledge  open  to  her  view, 
whilst  the  conquest  over  her  passion  is  still  incomplete, 
and  much  is  still  wanted  of  that  perfect  standard  of  vir- 
tue, which  she  is  always  aiming  at,  but  can  never 
reach.  Would  an  infinitely  wise  Being  create  such 
glorious  creatures  for  so  mean  a  purpose  ;  or  can  he 
delight  in  the  production  of  such  abortive  intelligences  ? 
Would  he  give  us  talents,  which  are  never  fully  to  be 
exerted,  and  capacities  which  are  never  to  be  filled  ?  Is 
it  not  far  more  reasonable  to  suppose,  that  man  is  not 
sent  into  the  world  merely  to  propagate  his  kind ;  to 
provide  himself  with  a  successor,  and  then  to  quit  his 
post :  but,  that  those  short-lived  generations  of  rational 

*  Mr.  Addisou. 


68  SERMON  VI. 

creatures,  which  rise  up  and  disappear  in  such  quick 
succession,  are  only  to  receive  their  first  rudiments  of 
existence  here,  and  then  to  be  transplanted  to  some 
more  friendly  climate,  where  they  may  spread  and 
flourish  ;  where  they  may  go  on  from  strength  to 
strength  ;  where  they  may  shine  for  ever  with  new  ac- 
cessions of  glory,  and  brighten  to  all  eternity*  ?" 

III.  There  is,  in  the  human  mind,  a  constant  and  a 
natural  tendency  towords  futurity.  Our  thoughts  are 
perpetually  Vv^andering  from  the  present  moment,  and 
looking  forwards  to  something  that  is  to  take  place  here- 
after. Be  our  happiness  ever  so  great,  yet  it  is  not  suf- 
ficient to  gratify  and  content  the  soul.  There  is  always 
a  void  left  in  it,  which  can  never  be  filled  up  without 
calling  in  the  aid  of  futurity,  without  the  anticipation  of 
something  more  than  we  at  present  possess.  Whatever 
may  chance  to  be  our  ruling  passion,  whether  it  be  the 
love  of  wealth,  of  power,  of  honor,  of  pleasure,  we  are 
scarce  ever  satisfied  with  that  share  of  it  which  we  en- 
joy ;  but  are  always  thirsting  and  reaching  after  more, 
are  perpetually  forming  projects  from  which  we  pro- 
mise ourselves  greater  satisfaction  than  any  we  have 
yet  experienced.  There  is  constantly  some  favorite  ob- 
ject in  view,  some  point  to  be  obtained  ;  and  "  we  are 
continually  hurrying  over  some  period  of  our  existence, 
in  order  to  arrive  at  certain  imaginary  stations  or  rest- 
ing-places," where  we  hope  to  find  that  quiet  and  con- 
tent which  has  hitherto  eluded  our  search.  -  We  reach 
those  wished-for  situations,  but  "  we  find  no  rest  for 
the  sole  of  our  feet  -j-."  The  imaginary  horizon  of  our 
project  flies  before  us  as  we  advance  ;  no  sooner  do  we 
gain  one  eminence,  than  another  instantly  appears  be- 
yond it ;  and  when  that  is  passed,  still  others  present 
themselves  in  endless  succession  to  our  view.  Thus 
are  we  continually  drawn  on  through  life  with  the  same 
delusive -expectations.  We  live  upon  the  future,  though 
the  future  constantly  deceives  us ;  we  continue  grasping 

*  spectator.  No.  111.  The  whole  of  this  inimitable  paper  (of  which  the 
substance  only,  with  a  few  variations,  is  here  given)  is  highly  v,-crthy  of  the 
attention  of  the  reader. 

f  Geiiesis  viii.  9. 


SERMON   VI.  69 

at  distant  happiness,  though  it  always  escapes  out  of  our 
hands,  and  go  on  to  the  very  end,  pressing  forwards 
towards  some  imagined  good,  with  the  same  eagerness 
and  alacrity  as  if  we  had  never  suffered  the  least  disap- 
pointment in  our  pursuit. 

There  are  two  other  passions,  that  respect  futurity^ 
belonging  to  our  constitution,  no  less  remarkable;  and 
these  are,  the  love  of  life^  and  the  desire  of  fame. 
The  former  of  these  is  common  to  all  mankind. 
There  is  a  natural  dread  of  extinction  planted  in  every 
human  breast.  The  soul  shrinks  back  with  horror 
from  the  thoughts  of  annihilation.  It  cannot  bear  the 
idea  of  sinking  into  nothing,  and  sharing  the  fate  of 
that  body  which  it  used  to  animate  and  inform. 
There  may  indeed  be  some  men  so  profligate  as  to 
pleajje  themselves  with  the  thought  of  having  their 
Vvhole  existence  terminated  in  the  grave,  and  of  re- 
nouncing all  expectation  of  a  future  reviviscence. 
But  the  reason  of  this  is,  not  because  they  have  no 
desire  to  continue  in  being,  but  because  tlie}^  dread 
7Z(7;z-existence  less  than  a  miserable  existence,  m  hich,  if 
there  be  another  state,  they  are  sure  must  be  their  lot. 
It  is  this  fear  which  over-rules  their  natural  love  of  hfe. 
Take  away  this,  and  they  would  be  as  averse  to  anni- 
hilation as  the  rest  of  mankind*. 

Akin  to  this  desire  of  continuing  our  existence,  is 
the  desire  of  continuing  our  memory  beyond  the  grave. 
This  was  the  chief  source  of  all  those  noble  disinter- 
ested, and  public-spirited  actions,  which  vrc  admire 
so  much  in  some  of  the  antient  Pagans.  We^  indeed, 
\\)ho  kiioiv^  that,  "  if  our  earthly  house  of  this  taber- 
*'  nacle  were  dissolved,  we  have  a  building  of  God, 
*'  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heav- 
*'  ensf,"  and  that  consequently  our  name  is  not  the 
only  part  of  us  that  shall  escape  the  hand  of  death 

*  This  dread  of  extinction,  and  passionate  love  of  life,  seem  to  have  op- 
crated  with  surprising  force  on  the  minds  of  the  antients,  and  are  expressed 
by  them  sometimes  in  the  stronq;est  and  most  emphatical  terms.  That  fa- 
mous vvish  of  Meca:nas,  Debilcm  Jcicitovianu,  c'c.  which  Seneca,  who 
quotes  it,  justly  calls,  Turpis.iimimi  votum,  is  not  the  only  instance  of  thij 
kind.  Vid.  Senec.  Ep.  101.  aiid  Lipsius's  notes  on  the  passage, 
t  2  Cor.  V.  1. 


70  SERMON   VI, 

have  much  higher  and  more  powerful  incentives  to  vir- 
tuous conduct  than  the  prospect  of  an  ideal  immortal- 
ity. Yet  still,  ideal  as  it  is,  and  utterly  unworthy  to 
be  compared  with  that  substantial  and  truly  glorious 
eternity  which  is  reserved  for  us  in  the  heavens,  it  has 
notwithstanding  no  small  influence  upon  our  hearts. 
Nor  is  this  the  case  only  with  men  of  exalted  minds  and 
cultivated  understandings,  but  in  some  degree  even 
with  the  lowest  and  most  ignorant  of  mankind.  Al- 
most every  one  is  desirous  of  leaving  a  reputable  char- 
acter behind  him,  of  being  celebrated  after  he  is  gone, 
by  the  little  circle  of  his  friends,  for  his  good  sense  or 
his  good  humor,  his  charity  or  hospitality,  his  honesty 
or  fidelity  ;  and  every  church-yard  we  see  is  full  of  the 
iittle  artifices  of  humble  ambition  to  secure  some  small 
portion  of  posthumous  renov/n.  There  are  perhaps  a 
i'tw,  who,  during  their  lives  may  be,  or  seem  to  be, 
indifferent  as  to  the  judgment  of  posterity  concerning 
them.  But  yet  even  these,  when  they  are  on  the  point 
of  leaving  the  world,  are  commonly  as  solicitous  as 
any  others  to  clear  up  any  thing  that  effects  their  char- 
acter, and  to  guard  their  memories  v/ith  all  the  care 
they  can  against  misrepresentation  and  calumny.  Al- 
though they  may  have  no  desire  of  a  great  name,  yet 
they  cannot  forbear  wishing  to  have  a  good  one,  or  at 
least  not  to  have  a  bad  one  ;  a  clear  proof  that  they  are 
far  from  being  unconcerned  about  their  future  reputa- 
tion. We  may  therefore  safely  affirm,  that  the  love  of 
fame  is  in  some  degree  or  other  universal.  We  are  al- 
most all  influenced  by  it  to  do  things  from  which  we 
can  reap  no  present  credit  or  advantage,  and  of  which, 
perhaps,  the  Vv-orld  v/ill  know  notliing  till  after  our  de- 
cease. When  our  own  times  are  unjust  to  us,  we  ap- 
peal to  future  ages  for  redress ;  and  we  have  always 
some  kind  friend  on  whose  care  and  tenderness  we  rely 
for  the  vindication  of  our  conduct,  if  it  should  stand  in 
need  of  it  when  we  are  gone. 

Takins:  then  toQCther  all  that  has  been  said  on  this 
strong  leaning  of  the  soul  tovoards  futurity ;  its  con- 
stant dissatisfaction   widi  present  enjoyments,  and  in- 


SERMON  VJ.  71 

cessaiit  pursuit  of  distant  happiness  ;  its  strong  desire 
of  life  and  immortality,  and  its  fondness  for  the  good- 
will  and  applause  of  posterity  ;  w  hat  shall  we  infer 
from  tliis  remarkable  construction  of  the  human  mind  ? 
Has  a  wise  and  a  good  God  furnished  us  with  desires 
which  have  no  correspondent  objects,  and  raised  ex- 
pectations in  our  breasts,  with  no  other  view  but  to 
disappoint  them  ?  Are  we  to  be  for  ever  in  search  of 
happiness,  without  arriving  at  it,  cither  in  this  world 
or  the  next  ?  Are  we  formed  with  a  passionate  longing 
for  immortality,  and  yet  destined  to  perish  after  this 
short  peciod  of  existence  ?  Are  we  prompted  to  the 
noblest  actions,  and  supported  through  life,  under  the 
severest  hardships  and  most  delicate  temptations,  by 
the  hopes  of  a  reward,  which  is  visionary  and  chimer- 
ical, by  the  expectation  of  praises  of  which  it  is  utterly 
impossible  for  us  ever  to  have  the  least  knovvledge  or 
enjoyment*?  These  suppositions  are  utterly  irrecon- 
cilcable  with  our  apprehensions  of  God's  moral  per- 
fections, and  his  usual  method  of  treating  us.  *'  It  is 
net  his  way  to  lead  us  by  illusions  and  deceits.  He  has 
not,  in  any  other  instance,  given  us  natural  propensi- 
ties, Mhich  he  knew  at  the  same  time  there  was  no 
possibility  of  gratifying,  nor  filled  us  with  unavoidable 
apprehensions  of  what  should  never  come  to  passf." 
Why  then  should  we  imagine  th'St  he  has  done  so  in  llie 
case  before  us,  and  in  that  only  ?  Is  it  not  infinitely 
more  reasonable  to  conclude,  that  our  appetite  for  im'- 
ir:ortality  has,  like  all  other  appetites,  its  pro]:er  means 
of  gratification  ;  that  the  natural  bent  and  tender.cy  of 
the  soul  towards  futurity  is  a  plain  indication,  that  to 
futurity  it  is  consigned  ;  that  it  is  intended  for  another 
state  of  existence,  where  it  v.ill  find  that  satisfaction 
it  looks  for  here  in  vain  ;  and  where  hope  will  at 
length  be  swallowed  up  in  enjoj'ment  : 

*  It  was  cvidciv.ly  the  opinion  of  the  excellent  Archbishop  Seeker,  that 
ve  shall  in  another  state  be  b<Mis;hle  of  the  regard  shown  to  our  characters 
by  those  who  survive  i:s.  He  has,  1  trust,  already  experierced  the  truth  of 
his  own  di  ctriiie.  Few  men  had  a  p,reater  interest  iii  it  than  hiinsdf.  See 
his  Sermons,  vol.  vii.  ser.  xviii.  p.  40.>,  4(  4. 

t  Clarke. 


72  SERMON    VI. 

IV.  The  same  conclusion  follows  from  viewing  man 
on  the  moral  side.  That  variety  of  faculties  with 
which  he  is  endowed,  and  the  circumstances  in  which 
he  is  placed,  plainly  prove  him  to  be  an  accmtntahle  be- 
ing. Human  actions  are  evidently  distinguishable  into 
two  sorts,  between  which  there  is  an  essential  and  un- 
alterable difference.  Some  are  naturally  riglit  and 
good,  others  naturally  wrong  and  evil.  God  has  im- 
pressed upon  our  minds  a  strong  internal  sense  of  this 
difference,  together  with  an  approbation  of  what  is 
right,  and  a  disapprobation  of  what  is  wrong.  He 
has  also  given  us  reason  to  direct  us,  where  natural 
sentiment  happens  to  fail,  and,  by  the  joint  operation 
of  these  two  principles,  he  has  clearly  intimated  to  us 
what  course  of  action  he  requires  us  to  pursue. 
Hence  arises  a  plain  rule  for  the  direction  of  our  mor- 
al conduct.  Appetite,  passion,  temptation,  prompt 
us  to  transgress  this  rule  ;  instinct,  reason,  interest, 
duty,  lead  us  to  conform  to  it.  We  have  undeniably 
the  power  to  chuse  which  side  we  please  ;  can  either 
give  way  to  irregular  desires,  or  control  and  over-rule 
them  by  superior  considerations.  Now,  if  we  were 
to  suppose  a  being,  purposely  framed  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  be  justly  accountable  for  its  proceedings,  one 
cannot  imagine  any  constitution  better  adapted  to  this 
end,  than  that  of  man  which  we  have  just  described. 
And  when  to  this  you  add,  that  there  is  a  superior 
who  has  a  right  to  call  him  to  an  account,  a  Superior 
v.'ho  gave  him  a  rule  to  walk  by,  and  to  whom  it  can- 
not be  indifferent  whether  he  transg-resses  that  rule  or 

o 

not ;  who  can  have  a  doubt,  but  that  God  will  in  some 
other  state  examine  into  the  use  he  has  made  of  his 
talents  in  this  ? 

V.  If,  from  considering  man,  we  ascend  to  God, 
the  evidence  for  a  future  state  rises  considerably  in  its 
importance  and  strength.  If  he  is  possessed  of  all 
those  perfections  which  we  usually  and  justly  ascribe 
to  him,  he  cannot  but  approve  virtue  and  abhor  vice, 
and  cannot  but  give  the  plainest  indications  that  he 
does  so.     His  holiness  must  incline  him  to  love  and 


SERMON  VI.  73 

favor  the  good,  to  detest  and  discourage  the  bad. 
His  justice  must  naturally  lead  him  to  distinguish  be- 
tween his  faithful  and  his  rebellious  subjects,  ami  to 
make  a  wide  difference  in  his  respective  treatment  of 
them.  His  wisdom  must  prompt,  and  his  power  ena- 
ble him  to  assert  the  dignity  of  his  government,  and 
the  authority  of  his  laws,  by  rewarding  those  ulio  ob- 
serve, and  punishing  those  who  transgress  them,  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  convince  the  whole  world,  that 
every  human  being  shall  be  a  gainer  by  obedience,  and 
a  loser  by  disobedience.  Now  it  is  a  truth  universally 
admitted,  that  the  virtuous  are  not  always  rewarded, 
nor  the  vicious  punished  in  this  world,  agreeably  to 
their  deserts.  For  although  the  natural  effect  of  virtue 
is  happiness,  and  of  vice  misery  ;  and  although,  in  ge- 
neral, these  effects  do  follow  even  here,  yet  in  several 
instances  they  most  evidently  do  not.  We  sometimes 
see  men  of  the  very  worst  principles  and  practices  go- 
ing on  in  a  full  tide  of  worldly  prosperity,  enjoying  a 
large  share  of  every  thing  this  life  has  to  give,  riches, 
honors,  rank,  power,  health  of  body  and  cheerfulness 
of  mind,  "  coming  in  no  misfortune  like  other  folk," 
and  not  "  plagued"  with  cares  and  aiHictions  "  like 
other  men^."  On  the  other  hand,  we  may  observe 
but  too  often,  that  the  best  and  worthiest  of  mankind 
are  destined  from  their  earliest  years  to  struggle  with 
the  severest  hardships  and  calamities ;  with  poverty, 
disappointments,  undutiful  children,  unkind  friends, 
inveterate  enemies,  perhaps  too  with  strong  passions, 
constitutional  distempers,  and  a  depression  of  spirits, 
w  hich  embitters  every  enjoyment,  and  would  render  the 
most  prosperous  conditioi\  of  life  insupportable.  I'heii' 
principles  too,  and  motives,  are  frequently  misrepre- 
sented, their  purest  and  most  bene^-olent  intentions 
rendered  odious,  and  those  actions  which  dcser\c  the 
applause  and  admiration  of  mankind,  expose  them  per- 
haps to  the  g;T)ssest  obloquy,  persecution,  and  distress. 
When  the  anlient  Pagans  beheld  such  instances  as  these, 
they   cried   out   immediately.  Where   are  the  gods  ? 

•  I'salin  Ixxiil.  5. 

K 


U  SERMON  VI. 

Who  will  ever  believe  that  Providence  concerns  itself 
in  human  affairs  ?  Who  indeed  Vvdll  believe  it,  if  these 
disorders  are  permitted,  without  any  notice  taken  of 
them  here,  or  any  intention  to  rectify  them  hereafter  ? 
Is  it  possible  to  conceive  that  the  wise,  and  righteous, 
and  all-powerful  Governor  of  the  universe,  will  suffer 
his  laws  to  be  trampled  under  foot,  his  religion  ridi- 
culed and  despised,  his  faithful  servants  calumniated, 
insulted,  oppressed,  and  yet  never  once  stretch  forth 
his  arm  to  chastise  the  bold,  triumphant  offender,  and 
to  recompense  the  injured  helpless  man  ;  to  vindicate 
his  reputation  in  the  eyes  of  all  mankind  ;  to  make  his 
"  righteousness  as  clear  as  the  light,  his  just  dealing  as 
"  the  noon-day;"  and  to  make  him  ample  amends  in 
another  life,  for  the  indignities  and  afflictions  he  has  un- 
dergone in  this  ? 

That  such  a  retribution  will  actually  take  place,  we 
shall  have  still  further  reason  to  conclude,  if  we  con- 
sider, 

VI.  Sixthly,  that  the  constitution  of  this  world  is 
exactly  such  as  might  be  expected,  if  it  vvas  to  be  fol-^ 
lowed  by  another. 

Supposing  a  future  judgment  to  be  a  thing  certain 
and  allowed,  it  would  then  be  natural  to  imagine,  that 
our  situation  here  would  be  such  as  should  be  a  proper 
trial  and  ])robation,  and  preparation  for  that  future  judg- 
ment. Now  this,  we  find,  is  actually  the  case.  This 
life  has  every  conceivable  appearance  of  being  a  scene 
oi  trial  ^n<\  probation y  intended  to  fit  and  train  us  up, 
by  a  proper  course  of  exercise  and  discipline,  for  ano- 
ther and  a  better  state  of  existence.  The  faculties  we 
are  furnished  with,  and  the  constitution  of  the  world 
we  are  placed  in,  precisely  answer  to  this  idea,  and  to 
no  other.  Good  and  evil  are  placed  before  us,  we  have 
a  power  of  chusing  which  VvC  please,  and  we  know  all 
the  consequences  of  our  choice.  A  system  of  affec- 
tions is  given  us,  to  excite  us  to  action  ;  a  variety  of 
objects  is  distributed  around,  to  work  on  these  affec- 
tions ;  we  have  opportunities  of  indulging,  and  we 
have  motives  for  restraining,  them.     We  are  allured  bv 


SERMON    VI.  75 

pleasure,  by  interest,  by  power,  with  no  other  view  but 
to  give  proof  of  our  moderation,  our  integrity,  our  dis- 
interestedness. The  provocations,  injuries,  and  aflionts 
we  constantly  meet  with,  are  so  many  trials  of  our  tem- 
per,, forbearance,  and  placability:  the  afflictions  and 
calamities  of  various  kinds,  \vhich  fall  to  our  lot,  are 
only  instruments  in  the  hands  of  Providence  to  exercise 
and  improve  our  patience,  fortitude,  humility,  meek- 
ness, resignation.  Whatever  road  of  life  we  take,  ob- 
structions and  inconveniencies,  cares  and  difficulties, 
quickly  start  up  before  us,  to  oppose  our  progress,  and 
to  render  necessary  the  utmost  exertions  of  our  pru- 
dence,  circumspection,  industry  and  perseverance. 
Even  those  irreligious  and  licentious  writings  that  do 
so  much  mischief,  give  occasion,  at  the  same  time,  to 
the  friends  of  religion,  to  manifest  their  zeal  and  their 
abilities  in  the  d^ence  of  insulted  decency,  and  of  di- 
vine truth.  That  unequal  allotment  also  of  worldly 
blessings,  which  is  so  constant  a  subject  of  discontent 
and  complaint,  is  only  a  part  of  the  same  general  plan  of 
moral  improvement  and  probationary  discipline.  The 
^vealthy  and  the  indigent,  the  high  and  the  low,  the 
powerful  and  the  weak,  are  brought  together  on  the 
same  great  theatre  of  action,  in  order  to  "  provoke  one 
"  another  to  good  w^orks,"  and  to  be  the  mutual  instru- 
ments of  drawing  forth  the  good  qualities  suited  to  their 
respective  stations.  And  in  the  same  manner,  through- 
out the  whole  intercourse  of  human  life,  the  collision  of 
opposite  tempers,  situations,  employments,  interests, 
passions,  and  pursuits,  strikes  out  of  our  souls  those 
sparks  of  virtue,  which  would  otherwise,  probably, 
never  have  been  called  forth  to  view*. 

It  is  a  fact,  then,  which  will  admit  of  no  dispute, 
that  we  are  actually  tried,  here,  almost  ever}'  moment 
of  our  lives.  We  ourselves,  in  common  speech,  call 
our  afflictions  trials  ;  and  we  feel,  to  our  cost,  that  they 
are  really  so.  If  this  be  granted,  it  follows  that  this 
world  is  confessedly  a  state  of  probation  ;  the  necessary 
consequence  of  which  is,  a  state  of  retribution.     For, 

*  See  Dr.  Ilorbcn'a  Sermons,  D.  15. 


76  SERMON  VI. 

it  would  be  as  absurd  to  suppose,  that  we  should  be 
tried,  without  being  rewarded  or  punished,  as  that  we 
should  be  rewarded  or  punished  without  giving  any 
proofs  that  we  deserve  either.  These  two  things  are 
correlatives,  and  mutually  infer  each  other.  They  are 
evidently  parts  of  the  same  design,  the  beginning  and 
the  end  of  one  wise  plan  of  government,  which  we 
cannot  suppose  to  be  left  imperfect  or  incomplete, 
Mdthout  arraigning  the  wisdom  and  the  justice  of  its 
divine  author.  It  is  not  his  custom  to  do  his  M'ork  by 
halves.  Whatever  he  enters  upon  he  will  accomplish. 
Every  thing  we  know  of  him,  and  his  proceedings, 
convince  us  that  he  must,  and  he  himself  declares  to 
all  the  world  that  he  M'ill.  "  When  I  begin,"  says  he, 
*'  I  will  also  make  an  end*.'* 

VIL  Strong  as  these  arguments  are  in  themselves  in 
favor  of  a  future  state,  it  is  no  small  confirmation  of 
them,  that  there  has  been  a  general  propensity  and  in- 
clination in  almost  all  mankind,  in  every  period  and 
every  country  of  the  world,  to  believe  the  existence 
of  the  soul  after  death,  and  to  entertain  some  notions, 
however  imperfect  and  confused,  of  a  future  recom- 
pence.  With  regard  to  the  anlient  Heathens,  we  have 
the  testimony  of  one  of  the  greatest  men  amongst 
themf ,  that  there  was  an  universal  agreement  of  all 
people  upon  the  earth,  in  this  great  point ;  and  he 
makes  this  common  consent  one  of  his  chief  proofs  of 
the  immortality  of  the  soul.  And  from  that  time  to 
this,  amidst  all  the  discoveries  that  have  been  made, 
in  every  part  of  the  globe,  there  has  never  yet,  I  be- 
lieve, been  found  one  single  nation,  ho\vcver  savage 
or  barbarous,  that  has  not  had  some  apprehensions  or 
suspicions  of  another  state  of  being  after  this.  Even 
those  that  are  said  (though  but  on  very  doubtful  evi- 
dence) to  have  no  notion  of  a  Supreme  Being,  and  to 
be  destitute,  not  only  of  religious  principle,  but  also, 
in  some  respects,  of  moral  sentiment ;  yet  all  concur 

f  1  Sam.  iii.  12.  f  Cicero.  Tusc.  Qusest.  1.  i. 


SERMON  VI.  77 

in  believing  the  existence  of  the  soul  after  death*.  It 
is  true,  indeed,  that  there  \vere,  among  the  antient 
Pagans,  some  sects  of  philosophers  who  doubted,  and 
others  who  denied,  a  future  retribution.  But  the 
number  of  these,  in  comparison  of  the  whole  class  of 
the  common  people  who  believed  it,  was  but  small. 
And  nothing  ought  to  be  concluded  against  the  preva- 
lence of  a  natural  sentiment,  from  the  fanciful  notions 
of  a  few  conceited  sophists  ;  whose  pride  it  has  ever 
been  to  show  their  ingenuity  in  combating  the  plainest 
truths,  merely  because  they  iverc  plain,  and  to  check 
the  voice  of  reason  and  of  nature,  by  perplexing  sub- 
tleties, and  unintelligible  refinements.  But  the  human 
understanding  left  to  itself,  and  free  from  all  artificial 
bias  and  constraint,  has  a  very  strong  propensity  to  the 
belief  of  a  future  judgment.  And,  although  in  the 
notions  both  of  the  antient  Heathens,  and  of  our  mod- 
ern savages,  concerning  it,  there  is  great  obscurity, 
imcertainty,  and  confusion,  with  a  strange  mixture  of 
the  most  absurd  and  fabulous  imaginations,  so  as  to 
produce  little  or  no  effects  upon  their  hearts  and  lives  ; 
yet  still  they  all  tend  to  evince  the  natural  tendency  of 
the  human  mind  to  this  opinion.  And  the  happy  re- 
gions of  the  Thracianf,  the  sensual  paradise  of  Ma- 
homet, the  elysium  of  the  Greeks,  and  the  pleasant 
mountains  of  the  Indians,  all  agree  in  one  common 
principle,  the  continuation  of  our  being  after  death, 
and  the  distribution  of  certain  rewards  and  punishr 
ments  in  another  life. 

•  See  Locke's  Essay  on  Hum.  Und.  h.  i.  c.  3-  s.  9.  Robertson's  Hist.  oF 
America,  b.  iv.  p.  389.  Account  of  Voyages  to  the  Southern  Hemisphere, 
published  by  Hawkesworth,  vol.  ii.  p.  236 — 239,  4to.  1st  ed.  Tillotson, 
sermon.  174.  It  is  remarkable,  that  the  immortality  of  the  soul  is  believed 
by  all  the  savage  tribes  of  America,  from  one  end  of  that  immense  comi- 
fieut  to  the  other. 

f  bpe  Herodotus,  i.  iv.  p.  252,  ed.  Gronov. 


I  iiiiiiiwijnwan— amLWBg.  uBig'ijijiJjAJWf 


SERMON  VII. 


Matthew  xxv.  46. 

And  these   shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishmcJit  :    but     the 
righteous  into  life  eternal. 

I  HAVE  now  given  you  a  general  delineation  of 
the  natural  and  moral  evidences  for  the  immortali- 
ty of  the  human  soul,  and  a  state  of  future  recom- 
pence  ;  and  although  each  of  them,  singly  considered, 
cannot  be  said  to  be  absolutely  conclusive,  yet,  when 
taken  collectively  they  amount  to  a  very  high  degree 
of  probability ;  a  degree  which  would  render  it  the 
extremity  of  folly  for  any  one  to  act  (which  yet  is  but 
too  common  a  case  with  those  who  reject  revelation) 
as  if  it  Vv'as  a  decided  pointy  that  there  is  no  state  of 
existence  but  the  present.  How  totally  opposite  such 
an  assumption  would  be  to  every  dictate  of  nature 
and  reason,  will  appear  still  more  evident,  if  we  now 
very  briefly  dra^v  together  into  one  point  of  view  the 
several  arguments  that  have  been  stated  in  the  two 
preceding  discourses,  and  then  see  how  the  case 
stands  on  the  two  contrary  suppositions,  that  there 
is,  and  that  there  is  7iot^  a  future  state  of  retribution. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  if  we  admit  that  this  life 
is  the  whole  of  our  being,  what  a  strange  and  unac- 
countable scene  of  things  presents  itself  ?  We  have 
in  that  case  an  active  principle  within  us,  which  has 
every  imaginable  appearance  of  being  distinct  from 
the  body,  immaterial,  indiscerptible,  and  indissolu- 
ble ;  yet  it  turns  out  to  be  nothing  more  than   mere 


SERMON   VII.  79 

matter,  endued  with  qualities  diametrically  opposite 
to  its  most  essential  properties ;  it  is  dissolved  with 
the  body,  and  loses  all  sensation,  consciousness,  and 
reflection  for  ever,  in  the  grave. 

We  are  evidently  distinguished  from,  and  raised 
above,  the  brutes,  by  a  variety  of  astonishing  faculties 
and  powers,  which  seem  plainly  designed  for  some 
nobler  scene  of  action  than  this ;  yet  with  the  brutes 
xve  perish,  and  all  the  rich  endowments  of  our  minds 
are  wasted  on  us  to  no  purpose. 

We  are  daily  mxking  advances  both  in  knowledge 
and  virtue  ;  we  have  a  large  field  of  improvement, 
both  moral  and  intellectual  before  our  eyes  ;  yet  in 
the  very  midst  of  our  progress  we  are  stopped  short 
by  the  hand  of  death,  and  never  reach  that  state  of 
perfection,  of  which  wc  seem  capable,  and  which  we 
ardently  desire. 

We  are  formed  with  ideas  and  expectations  of  hap- 
piness, which  arc  everlastingly  disappointed  ;  with 
a  thirst  for  future  fame,  of  which  we  shall  never  be 
conscious  ;  with  a  passionate  longing  for  immortali- 
ty, which  Avas  never  meant  to  be  gratified. 

Every  part  of  our  constitution  shovvS  that  we  arc 
accountable  for  our  conduct,  every  remorse  of  con- 
science is  a  proof  that  we  are  so  ;  there  is  a  superior, 
\vho  has  given  us  a  rule  to  walk  by,  v\ho  has  a  right 
to  enquire  w  hcther  we  have  conformed  to  that  rule  ; 
yet  that  cnquir}'  is  nc\:cr  made. 

The  world  in  vvhidi  we  are  placed  is  one  continued 
scene  of  probation.  W'e  appear  to  be  sent  into  it 
with  no  other  view,  but  to  shew  how  we  can  behave, 
uiider  all  that  variety  of  dimcult  and  distressful  cir- 
cumstances into  which,  by  one  means  or  other,  Vvc 
are  continually  tlirown.  Yet  our  behavior  passes 
totally  unregarded.  We  perform  our  j-»arts,  but  the 
Judge  who  has  tried  us  forgets  to  perform  his.  Our 
trial  is  finished,  and  no  consequences  follow  ;  no  sen- 
tence is  pronounced  ;  v.e  are  neither  rewarded  for 
hiiving  acted  well,  nor  punished  for  having  acted  ill. 


80  SERMON  VII. 

We  conceive  ourselves  to  he  the  subjects  of  an 
Almighty  governor,  who  has  given  us  a  system  of  laws 
for  our  direction.  Yet  he  appears  to  be  perfectly  in- 
different whether  we  observe  those  laws  or  not.  His 
iriends  and  his  enemies  fl\re  frequently  alike.  Nay, 
the  former  are  often  punished  with  the  heaviest  afflic- 
tions, and  the  latter  rewarded  with  every  earthly  enjoy- 
ment. 

There  has,  in  fine,  been,  frotn  the  first  ages  of  the 
world  down  to  this  moment,  an  almost  universal 
agreement  and  consent  of  all  mankind  in  the  belief  or 
apprehension  of  a  future  state  of  existence  ;  and  yet 
this  turns  out  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  delusive  im- 
agination, though  impressed  so  deeply  by  nature  itself 
on  every  human  breast. 

What  now  can  be  imagined  more  strange  and  in- 
explicable ;  more  absurd  and  inconsistent ;  more 
replete  with  disorder,  confusion,  and  misery;  more 
unworthy  the  wisdom,  the  justice,  the  goodness  of 
the  Supreme  Being,  than  the  frame  of  man,  and 
the  constitution  of  the  world,  according  to  the  re- 
presentation here  given  of  them  ? 

But  when,  on  the  other  hand,  you  extend  your 
view  beyond  the  limits  of  this  life,  and  take  in  the  con- 
sideration o^ another,  what  an  alteration  does  this  iii- 
stantly  make  in  the  appearance  of  every  thing  within 
and  without  us  !  The  mist  that  before  rested  on  the 
face  of  the  earth  vanishes  av\'ay,  and  discovers  a  scene 
of  the  utmost  order,  beauty,  harmony,  and  regularity. 
The  moment  our  relation  to  another  world  is  kno^^  n, 
all  perplexity  is  cleared  up,  and  all  inconsistencies  are 
reconciled. 

We  then  find  ourselves  composed  of  two  parts,  a 
materiiii  body  and  an  immaterial  soul  ;  and  the  seem- 
ingly incompatible  properties  of  matter  and  spirit  in- 
stead of  being  intermixed  and  incorporated  together  in 
one  substance,  have  each  their  distinct  province  assign- 
ed them  in  our  couipound  frame,  and  reside  in  sepa- 
rate substances  suited  to  their  respective  nati.'ires.  But 
though  diftlrent  from  each  other,  they  are  closely  \ini- 


SERMON  Vir.  81 

ted  together.  By  this  union  we  are  allied  both  to  the 
visible  and  invisible,  the  material  and  the  spiritual 
world,  and  stand  as  it  were  on  the  confines  of  each. 
And  when  the  body  reverts  to  earth,  the  soul  betakes 
itself  to  that  world  of  immortal  spirits  to  which  it  be- 
longs. 

Those  extraordinary  faculties  and  powers  of  the  hu- 
man mind,  which  seem  far  beyond  what  the  uses  of  this 
short  life  require,  become  highly  proper  and  suitable 
to  a  being  that  is  designed  for  eternity,  and  are  nothing 
more  than  what  is  necessary  to  prepare  it  for  that  hea- 
venly country  which  is  its  proper  home,  and  is  to  be 
its  everlasting  abode.  There  they  will  have  full  room 
to  open  and  expand  themselves,  and  to  display  a  degree 
of  vigor  and  activity  not  to  be  attained  in  the  present 
life.  There  they  will  go  on  improving  to  all  eternity, 
and  acquire  that  state  of  perfection  to  which  they  are 
always  tending,  but  have  not  lime  in  this  world  to  ar- 
rive at. 

When  once  it  Is  certain  that  we  are  to  give  an  account 
of  ourselves  hereafter,  there  is  then  a  plain  reason  why 
we  are  free  agents  ;  why  a  rule  is  given  us  to  walk  by ; 
why  we  have  a  power  of  deviating  from,  or  conforming 
to  it ;  why,  in  short,  we  undergo  a  previous  examina- 
tion at  the  bar  of  our  consciences  before  we  appear  at 
the  tribunal  of  our  great  Judge. 

Our  earnest  thirst  for  fame,  for  happiness,  for  immor- 
tality, will,  on  the  supposition  of  a  future  existence, 
serve  some  better  purpose  than  to  disappoint  and  dis- 
tress us.  They  are  all  natural  desires,  with  objects 
that  correspond  to  them  ;  and  will  each  of  them  meet 
with  that  gratification  in  another  life,  which  they  in  vain 
look  for  in  this. 

Nay,  even  that  unequal  distribution  of  good  and  evil, 
at  which  we  are  so  apt  to  repine,  and  those  heavy  af- 
flictions that  sometimes  press  so  hard  upon  the  best  of 
men,  are  all  capable  of  an  easy  solution,  the  moment 
we  take  a  future  life  into  the  account.  This  world  is 
then  only  part  of  a  system.  It  was  never  intended  for 
a  state  of  rctributiouj  but  of  probatioju    Here  we  arc 

L 


S^  SERMON   VII. 

only  tried ;  it  is  hereafter  we  are  to  be  rewarded  or 
punished.  The  evils  we  meet  with,  considered  in  this 
light,  assume  a  very  different  aspect.  They  are  wise, 
and  even  benevolent  provisions,  to  put  our  virtues  to 
the  proof ;  to  produce  in  us  that  temper,  and  those  dis- 
positions, which  are  necessary  preparations  for  immor- 
tal glory. 

Thus  does  the  supposition  of  a  future  state  clear  up 
every  difficulty,  and  disperse  the  darkness,  that  other- 
wise hangs  over  this  part  of  God's  creation.  Willi 
this  light  of  immortality  held  up  before  us,  we  can  find 
our  way  through  the  obscurest  parts  of  God's  moral  go- 
vernment, and  give  a  satisfactory  account  of  his  deal- 
ings with  mankind.  It  is  therefore  a  most  convincing 
proof  of  the  reaHty  of  a  future  state,  that  it  answers  so 
many  excellent  purposes,  and  seems  so  indispensably 
necessary  to  give  harmony  and  regularity  to  the  designs 
of  the  Almighty  in  the  formation  of  this  globe,  and  its 
inhabitants,  and  to  be  the  finishing  and  winding  up  of 
one  uniform  and  consistent  plan  of  divine  conduct. 
For,  as  in  the  material  ivorld,  ^vhen  we  find  that  the 
principle  of  gravitation,  upon  being  applied  to  the  se 
veral  parts  of  the  universe,  explains,  in  thejustest  and 
most  elegant  manner,  the  situations,  appearances,  and 
influences  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  and  even  accounts 
for  all  the  seeming  irregularity  and  eccentricity  of  their 
motions,  we  make  no  scruple  of  allowing  the  existence 
and  the  operation  of  such  a  pov.er :  so  in  the  moral 
system^  when  we  see  that  the  admission  of  another  life 
gives  an  easy  solution  of  the  most  surprizing  and  other- 
wise unaccountable  phenomena  ;  and  is,  as  it  were,  a 
master  key,  that  unlocks  every  intricacy,  and  opens  to 
us  the  great  plan  of  Providence  in  the  administration  of 
human  afiairs  ;  we  can  no  longer,  without  doing  vio- 
lence to  every  rule  of  just  reasoning,  refuse  our  assent 
to  the  truth  and  reality  of  such  a  state. 

From  this  collective  view  of  those  argyments  fi^r  a 
future  existence,  which  are  the  result  of  our  ov.  n  re- 
searches on  the  subject,  it  appears,  that  when  combined 
together,  they  form  a  very  strong  body  of  evidence  in 
support  of  that  great  truth. 


SERMON  VU.  J8S 

.  Tliis  evidence  has,  Indeed,  as  I  before  observed,  been 
represented  by  some  to  be  so  forcible  and  decisive,  as 
to  render  the  aid  of  Revelation  on  this  point  totally  un- 
necessary. But  so  far  is  this  from  being  the  case,  that 
(Jje  very  clearness  with  which  ^\  c  are  now  enabled  to  de- 
duce the  reality  of  a  future  retribution  from  the  princi- 
ples of  reason,  will  itself  lead  us  to  a  very  convincing 
proof  of  the  absolute  necessity  there  was  for  some  su- 
perior light  to  instruct  and  direct  mankind,  in  this  and 
other  doctrines  of  the  utmost  importance  to  their  pre- 
sent and  future  happiness. 

It  has  been  shown  that  in  every  age  and  nation  of 
the  world,  the  belief  of  another  lif;^  after  this,  has  been 
strongly  and  universally  impressed  on  the  minds  of  the 
common  people.  It  has  been  shown  also,  that  besides 
these  natural  impressions,  we  may,  by  a  proper  exer- 
tion of  our  reasoning  pov/ers,  and  by  considering  the 
question  attentively  in  various  points  of  view,  draw  to- 
gether a  great  number  of  strong  presumptive  proofs  in 
support  of  the  same  important  truth.  From  these  pre- 
mises one  should  naturally  conclude,  that  all  the  great 
sages  of  antiquity,  those  wise,  and  venerable^  and  learn- . 
ed  men,  who  cultivated  letters  and  philosophy  with  so 
much  reputation  and  success,  who  were  the  guides  and 
luminaries,  the  instructors  and  legislators  of  the  Hea- 
then world,  Vvould  have  been  among  the  very  first  to 
embrace  the  idea  of  a  future  retribution  ;  to  see  more 
clearly,  andfeclmorcforcibly,  than  any  others,  the  united 
testimony  of  nature  and  of  reason  in  its  behalf;  to  rec- 
tify the  mistakes  and  refine  the  gross  conceptions  of  the 
vulgar  concerning  it  ;  to  clear  away  the  rubbish  with 
which  the  fictions  of  the  poets,  and  the  superstitions  of 
the  people,  had  cloggecl  and  corrupted  the  genuine 
sentiments  of  nature  ;  and,  by  delivering,  in  their  wri- 
tings, a  clear,  consistent,  rational,  methodical  exposi- 
tion of  this  great  truth,  to  establish  it  for  ever  in  the 
minds  of  men,  and  convert  an  article  of  popuhu"  belief 
into  a  fundamental  tenet  of  the  reigning  philosophy. 
This,  I  say,  it  was  natural  to  expect frow  them;  and 
had  they  done  this,  there  might  have  been  some  pre- 


84  SERMON  VII. 

tence  for  asserting  that  there  was  no  need  of  any  fur- 
ther light  on  this  subject.  But  what  is  the  real  state 
of  the  case  ?  Look  into  the  writings  of  the  antient  phi- 
losophers, respecting  a  future  retribution,  and  (with 
kw  if  any  exceptions)  you  see  nothing  but  embarrass- 
jnent,  confusion,  inconsistence,  and  contradiction.  In 
one  page  you  will  find  them  expatiating  with  apparent 
satisfaction  on  the  arguments  then  commonly  produced 
for  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  a  state  of  recom- 
pence  hereafter ;  answering  the  several  objections  to 
them  with  great  acuteness,  illustrating  them  with  won- 
derful ingenuity  and  art,  adorning  them  with  all  the 
charms  of  their  eloquence,  declaring  their  entire  as- 
sent to  them,  and  protesting  that  nothing  should  ever 
wrest  from  them  this  delightful  persuasion,  the  very  joy 
and  comfort  of  their  souls.  In  another  page  the  scene 
is  totally  changed.  They  unsay  almost  every  thing 
they  had  said  before.  They  doubt,  they  fluctuate, 
they  despond,  they  disbelieve*.  They  laugh  at  the 
popular  notions  of  future  punishments  and  rewards,  but 
they  substitute  nothing  more  rational  or  satisfactory  in 
their  room.  Nay,  what  is  still  more  extraordinary,  al- 
though they  all  acknowledged,  that  the  belief  of  a  future 
life  and  a  future  recompence,  was  an  universal  princi- 
ple of  nature  ;  that  it  was  what  all  mankind  with  one 
voice  concurred  and  agreed  in  ;  yet,  notwithstanding 
this,  many  of  them  seem  even  to  bave  taken  pains  to 
stifle  this  voice  of  nature  within  them  ;  and  considered 
it  as  a  'victory  of  the  greatest  importance  to  subdue  and 
extinguish  those  notices  of  a  future  judgment,  which, 
in  despite  of  themselves,  they  found  springing  up  with- 
in their  own  breasts,  f 

What  now  shall  we  say  to  this  remarkable  fact,  this 
singular  phenomenon   in  the  history  of  the   human 

*  Necio  qqomodo,  dum  lego,  assentior  ;  cum  posui  librum  Sc  mecum  ipse  de 
im  mortalitate  animoi-umcaepi  cogitare,  assensio  omnis  illabitur.  71«c.  ^(est. 
I.  i.  c.  11.  And  again,  Dubitans,  circumspectans,  hsesitans,  multa  adversa  f 
revertens,  tanquam  ratis  in  mari  immenso  nostra  vehitur  Oratio  c.  30. — A 
most  lively  picture  of  the  fluctuation  and  uncertainty  of  their  minds  on  this 
subject. 

t  See  Virgil  Georg.  ii.  v.  490.     Lucretius,  1.  i.  v.  80.  and  1.  S.  v.  oT ;  and 
Tusc.  Qufcst.  1.  i.  c.  21. 

J  Reverens.    Lavis. 


SERMON    VIT.  85 

mind  ?  Can  there  possibly  be  a  more  striking  proof  that 
Philosophy,  divine  philosophy  (as  it  is  sometimes  call- 
ed) which  is  now  frequently  set  up  as  the  rival  of  Rev- 
elation, was  in  general  utterly  unable  to  lead  men  to 
the  acknowledgment  of  one  of  the  plainest,  and  most 
important,  and  most  rational  truths  in  natural  religion  ; 
that,  instead  of  aiding  the  suggestions  of  nature,  and 
confirming  the  dictates  of  reason,  it  perplexed  the  one, 
and  resisted  the  other  ;  and  that  some  of  the  greatest 
and  most  learned  men  of  antiquity,  exactly  answered 
the  description  given  of  them  in  Scripture  ;  "  profess- 
*' ing  themselves  to  be  wise,  they  became  fools*:" 
Though  superior  to  all  the  rest  of  the  world  in  philo- 
sophy and  literary  attainments,  yet  in  some  great  points 
of  religious  knowledge,  they  sunk  frequently  even  be- 
low the  meanest  of  the  people.  They  ran  counter,  in 
short,  to  the  common  sense  of  mankind,  and  philoso- 
phized themselves  out  of  truths,  which  we  novj  see, 
and  which  the  bulk  of  men  even  tJje?!  saw,  to  be  con- 
formable to  the  most  natural  sentiments  of  the  human 
mind. 

It  was  therefore  highly  proper,  it  was  indispensably 
necessary,  that  God  himself  should  interpose  in  a  case 
of  such  infinite  importance  ;  that  Revelation  should 
come  to  the  aid  of  nature  and  of  reason  ;  should  restore 
them  to  their  original  force  and  po\A  er  ;  should  rescue 
them  out  of  the  hands  of  science,  falsely  so  called  ■[, 
whose  province,  in  matters  of  religion,  it  has  common- 
ly been  to  spoil  mankind  with  vain  deceit  J,  and  to  lead 
those  wrong,  whom  their  ov/n  good  sense  and  uncor- 
rupted  judgment  would  probably  have  directed  right. 

The  truth  is  (but  it  is  a  truth  which  the  Freethinker 
has  always  been  very  unwilling  to  admit)  that  Christian- 
ity has,  in  fact,  contributed  very  greatly  to  that  impro- 
ved state,  and  advantageous  point  of  view,  in  which  na- 
tural religion  now  appears  to  us  ;  and  many  of  those 
who  reject  the  authority  of  the  Gospel,  are,  without 
knowing  it  perhaps,  most  certainly  without  owning  it, 
Jliade  wiser  by  its  discoveries.     In  the  present  instance, 

*  Rom.  i.  23.  f  1  Tim.  vi.  20.  +  Col.  ii.  8. 


B6  SERMON    VII. 

particularly,  the  divine  light  of  Revelation  has  thrown 
a  brightness  on  the  distant  prospect  beyond  the  grave j 
which  has  brought  out  to  view,  and  rendered  more  dis- 
tinct, even  to  the  eye  of  reason^  a  variety  of  obscure 
points,  which  w'ere  before  invisible  to  her  unassisted 
sight.  Hence  the  remarkable  difference  there  is  be- 
tween the  reasonings  of  the  antients  and  the  moderns 
on  this  question.  Hence  the  force,  the  clearness,  the 
decision,  that  appear  in  the  one  ;  the  perplexity,  fee- 
bleness, and  uncertainty  that  distinguish  the  other.  Of 
this,  no  other  probable  cause  can  be  assigned,  than  that 
the  Pagan  philosopher  had  nothing  but  the  ivisdom  of 
this  ixiolrd  to  guide  his  researches  into  a  future  state  ; 
whereas  the  Christian,  and  even  the  Deistical  philoso- 
pher, comes  to  the  enquiry  with  his  mind  full  of  those 
ideas,  which  an  early  acquaintance  with  Revelation 
has  imperceptibly  impressed  upon  him.  To  explore 
a  road,  which  is  entirely  unknown  to  us,  by  a  feeble 
and  a  dubious  light,  is  a  totally  different  thing  from 
endeavoring  to  trace  it  out  again  by  the  same  light, 
after  it  has  been  once  shown  to  us  in  broad  and  open 
day.  The  former  is  the  case  of  the  antients,  and  the 
latter  of  the  moderns,  in  respect  to  a  future  life. 

But  besides  the  beneftt  derived  from  Revelation  in 
this  respect,  there  are  other  advantages,  of  the  utmost 
impotance,  which  the  Gospel  doctrine  of  life  and 
IMMORTALITY  brings  along  with  it ;  and  which  gives 
its  evidences  an  infinite  superiority  over  those  of  na- 
tural religion. 
.    The  principal  of  these  are, 

1st.     The  certainty  and  authority  of  ito  proofs. 

2dly.     Their  plainness  and  perspicuity. 

3dly.     The  nature  and  duration  of  its  rewards. 

1st.     The  certainty  and  authority  of  its  proofs. 

After  giving  every  possible  advantage  to  the  natural 
evidences  of  a  future  state,  it  must  be  acknowledged, 
that  they  amount  to  nothing  more  than  great  probabil- 
ity. They  cannot  afford  that  demonstratrce  certainty 
and  assurance  of  this  great  truth,  which  is  essentially 
necessary  for  the  complete  satisfaction  and  comfort  of 


SERMON  VIL  87 

the  mind,  in  so  very  interesting  a  point,  and  for  ren- 
dering this  doctrine  a  motive  of  sufficient  weight  to 
influence  the  hearts  and  regulate  the  conduct  of  man- 
kind. Neither  of  diese  eftects  could  nature  and  rea- 
son (universally  as  they  had  difiuscd  the  belief  of  a  fu- 
ture existence)  produce  in  the  heathen  world.  This 
the  writings  of  their  philosophers,  and  the  manners  of 
their  people,  inconteslibly  prove.  To  the  Gospel  a- 
lone  we  are  indebted,  for  the  ejit'ire  removal  of  all 
doubt  and  uncertainty  on  this  subject ;  for  raising  hope 
into  confidence,  and  a  mere  specidathe  notion  into  a  vi- 
tal and  most  powerful  principle  of  action.  It  is  evi- 
dent, that  nothing  less  than  an  express  Revelation  from 
God  himself  could  do  this.  He  who  first  brought  us 
into  being,  can  alone  give  us  authentic  information^ 
how  long  that  being  shall  be  continued,  and  in  what 
manner  he  will  dispose  of  us  hereafter.  This  infor- 
mation he  has  given  us  in  the  Scriptures,  and  has  giv- 
en it  in  such  plain  and  explicit,  and  awful  terms,  as 
must  carry  conviction  to  every  unprejudiced  under- 
standing, and  lecivc  the  deepest  and  most  useful  im- 
pressions on  every  well-disposed  mind. 

2.  Another  benefit  we  derive  from  Revelation  on 
this  head,  i,.,  x[-\q.  plainner.s  and  perspicuity  of  its  proofs. 
A  great  part  of  those  evidences  of  a  future  state,  which 
reason  furnishes,  require  a  considerable  degree  of  atten- 
tion and  consideration,  and  are  therefore  better  adapted 
to  men  of  a  contemplative,  philosophic  turn,  than  to 
the  generality  of  mankind,  who  have  neither  leisure, 
nor  in(  lination,  nor  abilities,  to  enter  into  long  and  ab- 
struse disquisitions  on  this  or  any  other  question  of  im- 
portance. But  the  arguments  of  the  Gospel  are  (and 
thanks  be  to  God  that  they  are)  of  quite  a  different 
sort.  It  sets  before  us  die  declarations  of  God  him- 
self, "  That  there  shall  be  a  resurrection  of  the  dead, 
'•'  both  of  the  just  and  the  unjust  ;  that  God  hath  ap- 
*'  pointed  a  day  in  m  hich  he  will  judge  the  world  in 
"righteousness;  and  that  we  must  all  appear  before 
"  the  judgment-seat  of  CI. rist,  that  every  one  may  re- 
"  ceive  the  things  dene  in  his  body,  according  to  that 


88  SERMON  VII. 

"  he  hath  done,  whether  it  be  good  or  bad*.''  Ttf 
convince  us,  not  only  of  the  possibility,  but  of  the 
certainty,  of  so  wonderful  an  event,  it  appeals  to  facts  ; 
it  shews  us  Christ  himself,  "  risen  from  the  dead, 
*'  and  become  the  first  fruits  of  them  that  slept.'* 
It  afterwards  exhibits  him  to  us  in  a  still  more  il- 
lustrious point  of  view.  It  represents  him  as  "  com- 
*'  ing  in  the  clouds  of  heaven,  with  power  and  great 
*'  glory,  to  judge  the  world.  The  trumpet  sounds, 
*'  and  the  dead,  both  small  and  great,  are  raised  up  ; 
*' and  before  him  are  gathered"  (what  an  awful  and 
astonishing  spectacle  !)  "  all  the  nations  of  the 
*'  EARTH  ;  and  he  separates  them  one  from  another, 
*'  as  a  shepherd  divideth  his  sheep  from  the  goats. 
*'  The  books  are  opened  and  he  judge th  them  out  of 
*'  the  things  that  are  written  in  the  books,  according  to 
*'  their  works ;  and  the  wicked  go  away  into  ever- 
*'  lasting  punishment  :  but  the  righteous  into  life 
*'  eternal  f." 

These  are  not  profound  and  curious  speculations, 
beyond  the  reach  of  common  apprehensions.  They 
are  plain  facts^  and  solemn  denunciations  from  the  "very 
highest  authority,  speaking  with  equal  force  to  all  ranks 
of  men,  and,  by  their  simplicity  and  dignity,  adapted 
no  less  to  the  capacity  of  the  illiterate  than  to  the  most 
exalted  conceptions  of  the  learned.  Hence  it  has  come 
to  pass,  that  these  divine  truths  being  preached  to  the 
poor  as  well  as  to  the  rich  (a  circumstance  peculiar  to 
the  Gospel,  and  therefore  mentioned  as  one  of  its  dis- 
tinguishing characteristics  J,)  have  conveyed  to  the  ve- 
ry humblest  disciples  of  Christ  far  clearer  ideas,  and 
juster  notions,  of  a  future  state,  than  were  to  be  found 
in  all  the  celebrated  schools  of  philosophy  at  Athens 
or  at  Rome. 

3.  But  there  is  still  another  point,  and  that  of  tiie 
utmost  consequence,  respecting  a  future  state,  in  which 
tlie  infinite  superiority  of  Revelation  to  the  light  of  na- 

*  Acts  xxiv.  15  ;  xvU.  3  ;  2  Cor.  v.  10. 
^  Matt.  x.\iv.  30.  xxv.  32.  46.     1  Cor.  sv.  52.     Rev.  xx.  13. 
\  Matt.  xi.  5. 


SERMON    VII.  •  89 

ture  must  evidently  appear.     And  that  is,  the  nature 
arid  duration  of  the  rewards  which  it  i:>roniises. 

The  utmost  that  reason  can  pretend  to  is,  to  prove 
that  we  shall  survive  the  grave  ;   that  we  shall  exist  in 
another  world  ;  and  that  there  the  w  icked  shall  be  pun- 
ished according  to  their   demerits,  and  the  good  re- 
warded with  such  a  degree  of  happiness,  as  their  vir- 
tues and  their  sufll'rings  here  seem  in  justice  to  require. 
This  is  all  that  is  necessary  to  vindicate  the  ways  of 
God  to  mankind  ;  and  therefore  beyond  this,  our  own 
reasoning  powers,  and  our  natural  expectations,  can- 
not go.     Indeed  the  very  best  aiid  wisest  of  the  Pa- 
gan philosophers  did  not  go  near  so  flir  as  this.     Some 
of  them,  although  they  believed  the   existence  of  the 
soul  after  death,  yet  denied  that  it  would  exist  for  ev- 
er^.    Odiers  admitted  its  eternity,  but  did  not  allow- 
that  it  passed  into  a  state  of  rewards  and  punishments. 
They  supposed  it  would  be  resolved  into  the  univer- 
sal SPIRIT  from  which  it  was  originally  detached. 
And  even  of  those  who  acknowledged  a  future  retri- 
bution, many  asserted  that  the  punishments  only  were 
eternal,  the  rewards  of  a  temporary  naturef  i     And  in- 
deed it  must  be  owned,  that  there  are  no  prhiciples  of 
natural  religion,  which  give  us  any  ground  to  hope  for 
a  state  of  felicity  hereafter,  unmixed  and  perfect  in  its 
kind,    beyond   all   conception   great^   and    in  duration 
endless.     It  is  from  Revelation  only  we  learn  \h^Xsuch 
shall  be   the   rewards    "  of  the  righteous  ;  that  God 
*'  shall  \A'ipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes,  and  there 
"  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow  nor  crying; 
"  that  he  will  give  them  glory,  and   honor,  and  im- 
"  mortality;  that  they  shall  go  away  into  life  eternal, 
"  and  enter  into    the  joy  of  their  Lord;   that  in  his 
"  presence  there  is  fullness  ofjoy,  and  pleasures  forever- 
*'  more  ;   that  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nei- 
"  ther  have   entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  good 
"  things  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  ^love 
*'  hinij". 

Stoici — din    mansuros    aiiint    animos,    semper    negant.     Tus.    Qiirest. 
'•  "'•  ^^-  1^-  t  Div.  Leg.  vol.  ii.  p.  109. 

\  Rev   vii.  27  ;  Horn.  ii.  7  ;  Matth.  v\v.  21.  36  ;  Psalm  xvi.  11 ;   1  Cor. 
n.  y.  jH 


m  SERMON  VII. 

In  these,  and  many>  other  passages  of  the  same  na^ 
ture,  we  are  expressly  assured,  that  both  our  exist- 
ence and  our  happiness  hereafter  shall  be,  in  the  strict- 
est sense  of  the  word,  e-uer lasting.  This,  none  but 
God  himself  could  promise,  or  when  promised,  fulfil. 
It  is  more  than  the  utmost  sagacity  of  human  reason 
could  discover,  more  than  the  utmost  perfection  of  hu- 
man virtue  could  claim.  Eternal  life,  therefore, 
is  constantly  and  justly  represented  in  Scripture  as  the 
GIFT,  the  FREE  GIFT  of  God,  througli  Jesus  Christ*  ;^ 
and  were  it  on  this  account  only,  it  might  be  truly  said, 
"  that  life  and  immortality  were  brought  to  light 
"  through  the  Gospel  f." 

Mark  then,  I  entreat  you,  in  conclusion,  mark  the 
difference  between  the  ivisdom  of  man.  and  that  imsdom 
ijohieh  is  from  aboise.  The  former,  as  you  have  just 
seen  in  the  instance  of  the  antient  philosophers,  does 
violence,  by  its  false  refinements  in  some  of  the  most 
essential  truths  of  religion,  to  the  clearest  principles  of 
nature  and  of  reason.  The  latter  illustrates,  corrobo- 
rates, improves,  and  perfects  them.  This  has  been 
shown  to  be  the  case  in  one  very  important  doctrine, 
and  might  be  shown  in  more.  Our  divine  Master  is 
indeed,  in  every  instance,  and  especially  in  that  we 
have  been  now  considering,  "  the  way,  the  truth, 
"  AND  the  life  X  ;"  and  whenever  we  are  tempted  to 
desert  this  heavenly  guide,  and  to  go  away,  either  to 
philosophy  or  to  any  other  instructor,  we  have  our  an- 
swer ready  prepared  for  us,  in  that  noble  and  afiecting 
reply  of  St.  Peter  to  Jesus,  "  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we 
*'  go  ?  Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life  :  and 
"  we  believe  and  are  sure  that  thou  art  that  christ, 
*'  the  son  of  the  living  god  *[[." 

♦  RoiM.  V.  18  ;  vi.  33.     f  2  Tim.  i.  10.     \  John  xiv.  6.    %  lb.  vi.  68,  6?. 


SERMON  VIII. 

Titus  ii.  6. 

Yotmg  men  li/ceivite  exhort  to  be  sober-minded. 

THERE  is  scarce  any  subject  of  exhortation  so  ne- 
cessary to  youth,  as  that  which  is  here  recom- 
mended by  St.  PauL  i\,lacrity,  emulation,  benevolence, 
frankness,  generosity,  are  almost  the  natural  growth  of 
that  enchanting  age.  What  it  chiefly  wants  is  some- 
thing to  regulate  and  temper  these  good  qualities  ;  and 
to  do  that  is  the  province  of  sober-mindedness.  Let 
not  the  young  man  be  frighted  with  the  solemnity  of 
the  name.  It  implies  nothing  unsuitable  to  his  years, 
or  inconsistent  with  his  most  valuable  enjoyments.  It 
tends  to  improve  his  cheerfulness,  though  it  may  re- 
strain his  extravagancies ;  to  give  the  warmth  of  his 
imagination  and  the  vigor  of  his  understanding  a  right 
direction ;  to  single  out  such  enterprizes  for  him  as  are 
M'orthy  of  his  natural  vivacity  and  ardor ;  to  prevent  his 
talents  and  industry  from  becoming  mischievous,  his 
pleasures  from  proving  ruinous,  and  to  render  his  pur- 
suits subservient,  not  only  to  present  delight,  but  to 
substantial  and  permanent  happiness. 

It  is  evident  that  there  is  both  a  moral  and  an  intel- 
lectual sobriety;  a  modest  reserve,  a  rational  guard 
upon  ourselves,  not  only  in  acting,  but  in  thinking  : 
and  the  original  word  cn^tp^ovav,  which  we  translate,  to  be 
sober -minded.,  includes  both  these  kinds  of  sobriety.  Its 
primary  signification  is,  to  be  wise,  prudent,  temperate; 
and  this  wisdom  chiefly  consists, 


©2  SERMON  Vlir. 

I.  In  the  government  of  the  passions. 

II.  In  the  government  of  the  understanding. 

First  then,  we  are  commanded  to  teach  youn^^ncn 
the  government  of  their  passions.  "  To  flee  youthful 
*'  lusts*,"  is  an  apostolical  admonition,  not  very  grate- 
ful, perhaps,  to  youthful  ears  ;  but  so  indispensably  re- 
quisite both  to  temporal  and  eternal  happiness,  that  it 
must,  at  all  events,  and  by  every  possible  means,  be 
inculcated  and  enforced.  It  comprehends  all  those  ir- 
regular desires,  to  the  influence  of  which  is  owing  much 
the  greatest  part  of  the  vice  and  misery  that  desolate 
mankind.  "  From  whence  come  wars  and  fightings 
"  among  you  ?  Come  they  not  hence,  even  of  your 
*'  lusts,  which  war  in  your  members  t  •'"'  From  whence 
(mavweadd)  come  murders,  frauds,  breaches  of  trust, 
violations  of  the  marriage- bed,  the  ruin  of  unguarded 
and  unsuspecting  innocence,  the  distress  and  disgrace 
of  worthy  families,  the  corruption  and  subversion  of 
whole  kingdoms  ?  Come  they  not  all  from  one  and  the 
same  impure  source,  from  the  violence  of  headstrong 
and  unruly  appetites,  which,  in  pursuit  of  some  unlaw- 
ful object,  burst  through  all  rcstntints  of  decency,  jus- 
tice, honor,  humanity,  gratitude  ;  and  throw  down  ev- 
ery barrier,  however  sacred,  that  stands  between  them 
and  the  attainment  of  their  end  ? 

The  passions,  then,  must  be  governed,  or  they  will 
govern  us  ;  and,  like  all  other  slaves  when  in  posses- 
sion of  power,  will  become  the  most  savage  and  merci- 
less of  tyrants.  But  at  what  time  shall  we  begin  to  go- 
vern them  ?  The  very  moment,  surely,  that  they  begin 
to  raise  commotions  in  the  soul ;  the  moment  we  know, 
from  conscience,  from  reason,  from  revelation,  that  the 
gratifications  they  require  ought  not  to  be  granted. 
This  period  may  in  some  be  earlier  than  in  others ; 
but  it  can  scarce  ever  be  later  in  any,  than  the  usual 
time  of  being  transplanted  to  this  place  %-  Here  then 
you  ought  at  once  to  enter  on  the  disposition  of  your 
studies  and  the  regulation  of  your  desires.  There  is 
no  danger  of  your  undertaking  so  arduous  and  necessa- 

*  2  Tim.  ii.  22.  f  James  iv.  1. 

:j;  Cambridge  ;  where  this  sermon  was  prcrvclicd.     See  table  of  contents. 


SERMON  VIII.  95 

ly  a  task  too  soon.  If  you  hope  to  acquire  any  autho- 
rity over  \'our  passions,  you  must  inure  them  to  early 
obdRience,  and  bend  them  to  the  yoke  m  hile  they  are 
yet  pliant  and  flexible.  It  will,  even  then,  indeed  be  a 
difiicult  task.  But  what  is  there  worth  having  that  is 
to  be  obtained  without  difticulties  .''  They  are  insepara- 
ble from  a  state  of  probation,  and  youth  is  the  proper 
time  for  subduing  them.  In  other  instances,  the  ob^ 
structions  you  encounter  serve  only  to  stimulate  your 
industry  and  animate  your  eflforts ;  and  why  then  not 
in  this  ?  Be  the  discouragements  what  they  will,  the 
consequence  is  not,  that  you  ought  to  desist  from  tiie 
attempt,  but  that  you  ought  to  begin  the  sooner.  For 
these  obstacles,  instead  of  lessening,  v.  ill  grow  upon 
your  hands  ;  every  moment  you  delay,  ^^'ill  but  rivet 
your  chains  the  faster,  and  give  habit  time  to  strengthen 
appetite.  Besides,  you  have  here  advantages  and  helps 
towards  this  great  work,  which  no  other  place,  no  other 
time,  can  afford.  The  retirement  you  cnjor  from  the 
great  world,  and  the  admirable  order  here  estabiished, 
were  purposely  meant  to  assist  you  in  the  science  of 
self-government,  no  less  than  in  the  acquisition  of 
learning.  The  exclusion  of  all  the  most  dangerous  al- 
lurements to  vice,  of  those  amusements  w  hich  excite 
die  softer  passions,  of  those  cares  and  contests  Vv-hich 
provoke  more  violent  emotions  ;  the  frequent  gnd  sta- 
ted returns  of  divine  v.-orship,  the  exact  distribution  of 
time,  the  allotment  of  almost  every  hour  to  its  proper 
employment,  the  necessity  of  a  modest  and  uniform  ap- 
parel, of  temperate  and  public  meals,  of  reposing  at 
night  under  one  common  roof;  all  these  things  are  most 
wisely  calculated  to  keep  the  attention  fixed  on  ir.nocent 
and  useful  objects,  to  curb  the  imagination,  to  restrain 
extravagant  desires,  to  induce  habits  of  modesty,  hu- 
mility, temperance,  frugality,  obedience  ;  in  one  word, 
SOBER-MINDEDNESS.  It  may  be  thought,  perliaps, 
that  the  regulation  of  dress,  and  diet,  and  amusement, 
and  such-like  trifles,  are  below  the  notice  of  a  great  and 
learned  body.  But  it  is  a  mistake  to  think  so.  O-dcr 
und  regularity  in  the  minutest  points,  tend  to  introduce. 


S4  SERMON   VIII. 

them,  nay,  are  necessary  to  introduce  them,  in  th« 
greatest ;  accustom  the  mind  to  restraint,  and  insensi- 
bly form  it  to  the  practice  of  vigilance  and  self-denial. 

It  is,  in  short,  the  excellent  discipline  established  in 
these  societies,  which  is  their  greatest  glory,  and  must 
be  their  firmest  support.  It  is  what  most  eminently 
distinguishes  the  universities  of  Great  Britain  from  all 
others  in  the  world,  and  justly  renders  diem  the  admira- 
tion of  every  one  whom  curiosity  draws  from  other 
climes  to  visit  them.  This  distinction,  then,  so  honor- 
able to  ourselves,  so  beneficial  to  those  we  educate,  it  is 
of  the  utmost  importance  for  us  to  maintain  with  in- 
flexible firmness  and  resolution.  We  cannot,  without 
some  hazard,  give  up  the  smallest  article  of  good  gov- 
eniment :  but  in  those  points  which  relate  immediately 
to  morals,  the  least  relaxation  must  tend  to  subvert  our 
credit,  and  even  endanger  our  existence.  In  a  place 
sacred  to  virtue  and  religion,  no  species  of  vice,  no 
kind  of  temptation  to  vice,  can,  for  one  moment,  be  tol- 
erated or  connived  at.  We  shall  not  be  allowed  to  say 
in  our  defence,  that  we  only  keep  pace  with  the  man- 
ners of  the  age  :  this  will  be  deemed  our  reproach  ra- 
ther than  our  excuse.  It  ?.s  our  business,  not  meanly 
"  to  follow  a  multitude  to  do  evil ;"  not  to  conforra  to 
the  corrupt  fashions  of  the  times,  but  by  our  precepts 
and  our.  example  to  fortify  our  young  disciples  against 
them.  It  is  evident  that  the  world  expects  from  us  a 
more  than  ordinary  degree  of  watchfulness  over  our 
conduct.  It  expects  that  the  correction  of  national 
abuses  should  beghi  here.  And  the  expectation  is  not 
unreasonable.  Whence  should  ireneral  reformation 
take  its  rise,  if  ever  it  rise  at  all,  but  from  the  two  great 
sources  of  Learning  and  Religion  ?  We  are  as  lights 
set  on  an  eminence,  shining  at  present  indeed,  hi  n  dark 
place^  in  the  midst  of  luxury  and  profusion,  but  able, 
perhaps,  by  degrees,  to  disperse  the  gloom  of  the  sur- 
rounding prospect.  If  we  cannot  check  the  excesses 
of  the  present  age,  we  may  at  least  crush  future  extra- 
vagancies in  their  birth,  by  infusing  into  our  youth  those 
lessons  and  those  habits  of  frugality,   abstinence,  and 


SERMON  VIII.  9S 

sober-mindedness,  which  are  essential  to  the  welfare 
both  of  the  universities  and  of  the  state. 

II.  The  other  great  branch  of  sober-mindedness, 
which  we  must  recommend  to  young  men,  is  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  understanding. 

There  is  a  great  variety  of  intellectual  errors,  into 
which,  without  a  proper  conduct  of  the  understanding, 
or,  in  other  words,  without  a  sound  and  well- cultiva- 
ted judgment,  the  young  student  will  be  extremely 
apt  to  fall.  Of  these  I  shall  single  out  only  one,  a- 
gainst  which  it  seems  at  present  more  peculiarly  ne- 
cessary to  caution  him,  and  that  is  an  insatiable  thirst 
for  noi^elty.  The  Athenians,  wc  know,  in  the  decline 
of  their  state,  ''  spent  their  time  in  nothing  else  but 
"  either  to  tell  or  to  hear  some  new  thing*".  In  this 
respect,  whatever  may  be  the  case  in  others,  we  fall 
very  little  short  of  that  elegant  but  corrupt  people  ;  and 
the  greater  part  of  those  who  write  for  popular  ap- 
plause, are  determined  at  any  rate  to  gratify  this  ex- 
travagant passion.  For  this  purpose  they  hold  it  ne- 
cessary to  depart,  as  far  as  possible,  from  the  plain 
direct  road  of  nature,  simplicity,  and  good  sense  ; 
which  being  unfortunately  pre-occupied  by  those  great 
masters  of  composition,  the  antients,  and  such  of  the 
moderns  as  have  trod  in  their  steps,  leave  them  no 
room  in  that  walk  for  the  distinction  at  which  they 
aim.  They  strike  out  therefore  into  untried  and  path- 
less regions,  and  there  strain  every  nerve,  and  put  in 
practice  every  artifice,  to  catch  the  attention  and  excite 
the  wonder  of  mankind.  Hence  all  those  various  cor- 
ruptions in  literature,  those  aftectations  of  singularity 
and  originality,  those  quaint  conceits,  abrupt  digres- 
sions, indecent  allusions,  wild  starts  of  fancy,  and 
every  other  obliquity  of  a  distorted  wit,  which  vitiate 
the  taste,  corrupt  the  morals,  and  pervert  the  princi- 
ples of  young  and  injudicious  readersf .  Hence  too 
all  those  late  profound  discoveries — that  to  give  youth 

*  Acts  xvii.  21. 
t  Certain  eccentric  compositions  are  here  alluded  to,  which  were  at  that 
time  (1767)  inuch  in  fashion,  and  have  as  usual  produced  a  multitude  of 
wretched   imitators   of  a  specie«  of  writing  which  does  not  admit>  and  is 
not  worthy,  of  iinitatioit. 


96  SERMON  Vllt. 

a  religious  education  is  to  fill  them  with  bigotry  anci 
prejudice ;  that  the  right  way  to  teach  morality  is  to 
make  vice  appear  amiable  ;  that  true  wisdom  and  phi- 
losophy consist  in  doubting  of  every  thing,  in  com- 
bating all  received  opinions,  and  confounding  the  most 
obvious  dictates  of  comm.on  sense  in  the  inexplicable 
mazes  of  metaphysical  refinement ;  that  all  establish- 
ments, civil  or  religious,  are  iniquitous  and  pernicious 
usurpations  on  the  liberties  of  mankind ;  that  the  on- 
ly v/ay  to  be  a  good  Christian,  is  to  disbelieve  above 
one  half  of  the  Gospel ;  that  piety  and  self-govern- 
ment are  duties  not  worth  a  wise  man's  notice  ;  that 
benevolence  is  the  sum  of  all  virtue  and  all  religion, 
and  that  one  great  proof  of  our  benevolence  is  to  set 
mankind  afloat  in  uncertainty,  and  make  them  as  un- 
easy and  hopeless  as  we  can. 

When  these  positions  are  thus  collected  together, 
and  proposed  without  sophistry  or  disguise  to  a  plain 
understanding,  they  appear  more  like  the  feverish 
dreams  of  a  disordered  imagination,  than  the  serious 
assertions  of  sober  and  reasonable  men.  And  yet 
they  are  notoriously  nothing  more  than  a  faithful  com- 
pendium of  what  some  of  the  most  favorite  authors 
of  the  age,  both  foreign  and  domestic,  avowedly  re- 
commend to  us,  as  maxims  of  wisdom  and  rules  of 
conduct.  Were  they  actually  adopted  as  such  by  the 
bulk  of  the  people,  it  is  easy  to  see  what  wild  w^ork 
they  would  make  in  society.  In  effect,  the  recent  op- 
portunities we  have  had  in  this  island,  of  observing 
the  ridiculous  extravagancies  resulting  from  those 
principles,  and  the  infinite  absurdities  of  a  practice 
formed  on  the  too- pre  vailing  system  of  modern  ethics, 
are  abundantly  sufficient  to  convince  us  of  their  utter 
unfitness  for  the  uses  and  the  duties  of  common  life, 
as  well  as  for  the  purposes  of  the  life  to  come.  It  be- 
hoves us,  therefore,  to  guard  our  young  disciples, 
with  the  utmost  care,  against  this  visionary  fiintastic 
philosophy,  which  owes  its  birth  to  the  concurrence 
of  much  vanity  and  little  judgment  with  a  warm  and 
ungoverned  imaginatiouj    and   is   studious  to  reconi" 


SERMON  Vlir.  97 

mend  itself  by  the  united  charms  of  novelty  and  elo- 
quence. Tliese  are  indeed  to  youn<^-  minds  attractions 
almost  irresistible  ;  but  yet  a  riglit  culture  of  the  un- 
derstanding will  be  an  effectual  security  against  them  ; 
and,  with  some  few  improvements,  there  cannot,  per- 
haps, be  a  better  for  that  purpose,  than  the  course  of 
study  marked  out  by  the  wisdom  of  the  university  to 
the  youth  of  this  place  ;  and  which,  to  their  praise  be 
it  spoken,  is  pursued  by  them  with  astonishing  applica- 
tion and  success. 

That  judicious  mixture  of  polite  letters  and  philo- 
sophic sciences,  which  is  the  necessary  preparative  for 
their  first  degree,  is  admirably  calculated  at  once  to 
refine  their  taste,  enlarge  their  notions,  and  exalt  their 
minds.  By  beginning  in  the  first  place  with  classi- 
cal LITERATURE,  and  improving  the  acquaintance 
they  have  already  made  with  the  best  and  purest  wri- 
ters of  antiquity,  they  will  insensibly  acquire  a  relish 
for  true  simplicity  and  chastity  of  composition.  They 
will  learn  strength  and  clearness  of  conception,  accura- 
cy, order,  correctness,  copiousness,  elegance  and  dig- 
nity of  expression.  They  will  find  that  the  most 
justly  approved  writers  of  our  own  times  hiZvc  formed 
themselves  on  those  great  models  ;  and  (as  one,  who 
well  understood  what  originality  was,  expresses  him- 
self)  they  will  perceive  that,  "a  true  genius  is  not 
any  bold  writer,  who  breaks  through  the  rules  of  de- 
cency to  distinguish  himself  by  the  singularity  of  his 
opinions ;  but  one  who,  on  a  deserving  subject,  is 
able  to  open  new  scenes,  and  discover  a  vein  of  true 
and  noble  thinking,  which  never  entered  into  any  im- 
ngination  before  ;  every  stroke  of  whose  pen  is  worth 
all  the  paper  blotted  by  hundreds  of  others  in  the 
whole  course  of  their  lives*. 

The  cultivation  of  Locie,  at  the  same  time,  and 
the  most  useful  and  practical  branches  of  the  mathe- 
matics (which  are  excellent  examples  of  severe  rea- 
soning and  sagacious  investigation)  will  also  be  of  sin- 

*  Swift's  proposal  for  correcting,  improving,  and  ascertaining  the  Eng- 
liili  ton;jue  ;  in  a  letter  to  lord  Oxford. 

N 


98  SERMON  VIII. 

gular  use  in  preserving  our  youth  from  error,  in  every 
subsequent  part  of  knowledge.  It  will  teach  them  to 
arrange,  and  methodize,  and  connect  their  thoughts  ; 
to  examine  the  arguments  of  others  with  a  nice  and 
critical  penetration  ;  to  pursue  them  through  a  long- 
concatenation  of  dependent  propositions,  and  discover 
whether  any  link  in  the  chain  of  proofs  be  wanting  ; 
to  distinguish  sense  from  sound,  ideas  from  words, 
hasty  and  peremptory  decisions  fom  just  and  legiti- 
mate conclusions.  It  w  ill  put  them  upon  their  guard 
against  bold  and  novel  opinions,  especially  if  address- 
ed to  the  imagination  by  strokes  of  \vit,  or  to  the 
heart  by  affecting  descriptions,  rather  than  to  the  un- 
derstanding by  sound  and  conclusive  reasoning.  By 
keeping  their  judgment  in  constant  exercise,  it  will 
improve  and  strengthen  that  excellent  and  useful,  but 
little  regarded,  faculty.  It  will  instruct  them  in  the 
several  degrees  of  certainty,  and  the  various  kinds  of 
proof,  of  which  different  subjects  are  capable  ;  the  just 
grounds  of  doubt,  assent,  or  disbelief;  the  true  limits 
and  extent  of  the  human  understanding ;  that  precise 
point,  in  short,  at  which  our  curiosity  ought  to  stop, 
and  beyond  which,  all  is  uncertainty,  conjecture,  and 
darkness. 

The  first  suitable  employment  of  our  minds,  thus 
improved,  is  to  turn  their  new-acquired  sagacity  in- 
ward upon  themselves,  and,  with  the  help  of  the  best 
ethical  writers,  antient  and  modern,  to  make  a  careful 
inspection  into  their  own  wonderful  fnime  and  consti- 
tution. This  leads  us  into  the  province  of  moral 
PHiLosorHY  ;  by  the  aid  of  which  we  shall  perceive 
more  distinctly  the  nature  and  true  value  of  the  ration- 
al, the  social,  the  selfish  principles  of  action  within  us, 
and  what  tenor  of  life  they  point  out  to  us  as  best  ac- 
commodated to  our  circumstances,  and  calculated  to 
produce  the  most  substantial  happiness.  By  leading 
young  people  early  into  such  enquiries  as  these,  many 
things  may  be  taught  them  of  unspeakable  use  to  them- 
selves and  others,  and  many  admirable  rules  suggested 
to  them  for  the  regulation  of  their  future  conduct. 


SERMON  VIII.  99 

After  this  survey  of  the  moral,  it  is  time  to  contem- 
plate the  wonders  of  the  material  world.  The  great 
volume  of  nature  is  therefore  now  open  upon  the  stu- 
dent. He  is  led  by  the  hand  of  science  through  all  the 
astonishing  and  sublime  discoveries  of  the  Newtoni- 
an PHILOSOPHY.  He  is  made  acquainted  with  the  se- 
veral properties  of  matter,  in  all  its  various  forms  and 
modifications,  on  this  globe  of  earth ;  and  furnished 
Avith  principles  for  increasing  and  improving  the  con- 
veniences of  common  life.  He  is  then  transported  to 
distant  planets  and  other  worlds.  He  investigates  the 
laws  that  p-overn  their  revolutions,  and  the  forces  that 
retain  them  in  their  orbits.  "  He  considers  the  sun 
*'  when  it  shineth,  and  the  moon  v.-alking  in  bright- 
"  ness*,"  and  all  the  host  of  heaven  standing  in  array 
before  him  :  and  sometimes  extends  his  thoughts  even 
beyond  these,  beyond  the  reach  of  sense,  to  new  firma- 
ments and  new  lights,  rising  up  to  his  imagination,  in 
endless  succession,  through  the  regions  of  unbounded 
space.  But  so  far  is  he  from  being  "•  secretly  enticedf ," 
as  some  have  formerly  been,  to  convert  his  admiration 
of  these  glorious  luminaries,  into  an  impious  adoration 
of  them,  that  they  serve  only,  as  they  naturally  should 
do,  to  ciirry  him  up  to  their  great  Author,  even  the 
"  Father  of  lights  ±."  He  sees  the  deity  plainly  writ- 
ten in  these  splendid  characters,  he  derives  from  them 
thejustest  and  most  magnificent  conceptions  of  his  na- 
ture and  attributes,  and  thus  lays  a  firm  and  solid  foun- 
dation for  the  superstructure  of  natural  religion, 
which  forms  the  next  great  object  of  his  attention. 

In  the  pursuit  of  this  most  important  branch  of  know- 
ledge, he  will  perceive  how  far  the  powers  of  nature  and 
of  reason  are  capable  of  going,  in  establishing  those 
great  fundamental  truths  of  religion  ;  the  being  of  a 
God,  a  superintending  Providence,  a  moral  govern- 
ment of  the  universe,  the  essential  and  unalterable  dif- 
ference between  right  and  wrong,  virtue  and  vice,  a  fu- 
ture state  of  existence  and  of  retribution,  and  the  obli- 
gations which  such  a  system  of  things  imposes  on  every 

*  Job  xxxi.  26.  f  lb.  xxxi.  27.  X  James  i.  If. 


100  SERiMON  VIII. 

rational  agent  to  conform  his  conduct  to  the  will  of  the 
Creator  ;  as  far  as  it  can  be  collected  from  the  consti- 
tution of  the  world,  from  the  genuine  sentiments  of  na- 
ture, the  faculties  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  attributes 
of  the  Deity  himself.  In  these  researches,  he  will  find 
light  enough  to  determine  an  honest  and  unprejudiced 
mind  to  the  belief  of  all  the  above-mentioned  momen- 
tous doctrines,  and  obscurity  enough  to  make  him  ear- 
nestly wish  for  clearer  evidence,  and  more  authentic 
information,  on  subjects  of  such  infinite  importance. 
After  these  enquiries,  the  student's  next  advance  is 

to  METAPHYSICAL     SPECULATIONS.       TllCSC,  it  mUSt 

be  owned,  have  been  but  too  often  employed  in  under- 
mining and  subverting  the  clearest  principles  of  mora- 
lity and  religion.  But  when  carried  only  to  a  certain 
point,  under  the  direction  of  a  sound  judgment  and  an 
honest  mind,  some  knowledge  of  them  may  be  attend- 
ed wdth  singular  advantages*.  It  will  secure  the  young 
student  from  beins:  cauQ-ht  in  the  snares  which  sonhists 
sometimes  wxave  out  of  those  slender  materials  ;  will 
teach  him  to  abstract  and  generalize,  and  simplify  his 
ideas  ;  will  qualify  him  to  drag  out  falsehood  and  scep- 
ticism from  the  midst  of  those  obscure,  and  intricate, 
and  crooked  mazes,  in  which  they  love  to  wander  ;  to 
detect  the  endless  errors,  into  which  excessive  subtilty 
and  false  refinement  must  necessarily  lead  us  ;  to  per- 
ceive that  a  quick  understanding  may  as  easily  miss  the 
middle  point  where  truth  resides,  by  going  beyond  it, 
as  a  dull  one,  by  falling  short  of  it ;  and  that  there  are  in 
religion,  as  in  all  sciences,  certain  primary  and  funda- 
mental truths,  which  are  only  obscured  by  much  rea- 
soning, and  which,  after  having  been  once  firmly  es- 
tablished, should  bo  laid  up  as  first  principles  in  the 
mind,  where  no  subtle  objections  or  acute  distinctions 
should  be  allowed  to  weaken  or  destroy  their  force. 

*  A  verey  convincing  proof  of  this  we  have  lately  had,  in  that  most  mas- 
terly piece  of  reasoniag,  called  Divine  Benevolence  asserted,  &.c.  by  Dr.  Bal- 
guy.  Whoever  has  read  this  with  the  attention  it  requires  and  deserves, 
will  most  earnestly  v/ish  that  nothing  may  prevent  the  learned  author  from 
gratifying  the  public  with  that  larger  ivorkf  of  which  the  treatise  we  are 
speaking  of  is  only  a  small  specimen. 


SERMON  VIII.  101 

Thus  do  each  of  the  several  branches  of  learning, 
AA  hich  compose  the  plan  ofediication  in  this  jilace,  con- 
tribute something  towards  the  sober-mindedness 
recommended  by  St.  Paul.  And,  what  is  of  still  greater 
importance,  the  fund  of  knowledge  which  our  youth 
will  probably  acquire  in  tlie  prosecution  of  these  stu- 
dies, nay  even  the  very  diliicultics  wluch  may  sometimes 
obstruct  their  progress,  ^vill  gradually  prepare  their  un- 
derstandings for  the  admission  of  still  nobler  ideas,  and 
sublimer  contemplations.  In  their  pursuit,  more  espe- 
cially, of  moral  and  religious  truth,  they  will  fmd,  as  I 
before  remarked,  so  much  wanting  to  give  complete 
satisfaction  to  the  mind,  that  they  cannot  but  see  the 
absolute  necessity  of  some  more  perfect  system  of  doc- 
trines and  of  duties,  to  supply  the  many  defects  of  na- 
tural religion,  to  strengthen  its  obligations,  to  enforce 
it  with  proper  sanctions,  and  to  give  it  a  viial  and  ef- 
fectual influence  upon  the  heart. 

Under  the  impressign  of  such  reflections  as  these,  it 
is  obvious  that  there  cannot  be  a  more  proper  time  for 
carrying  the  young  academic  still  one  step  further,  and 
giving  him  some  insight  into  the  nature,  the  design,  the 
evidences,  and  the  precepts  of  the  christian  reve- 
lation. 

But  here  unfortunately  we  are  obliged  to  stop.  For 
this  most  important  part  of  education  no  adequate^  no 
public  provision  is  yet  made  in  this  university.  Reveal- 
ed religion  has  not  yet  a  proper  rank  assigned  it  here 
among  the  other  initiatory  sciences  ;  is  not  made  an 
indispensable  qualification  for  academical  honors  and  re- 
wards  ;  has  not,  in  short,  all  that  regard  paid  to  it, 
which  its  own  intrinsic  worth,  and  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances at- present  attending  it,  seem  to  demand. 

It  is  well  known,  that  an  unbounded  freedom  is  now 
indulged  to  the  publication  of  the  most  licentious  opin- 
ions ;  and  that  these  are'not,  as  formerly,  confined  to 
bulky  volumes  of  infidelity,  or  to  dull  and  phlegmatic 
reasoners;  but  ate  dispersed  throughout  the  nation  in 
the  most  commodious  and  pleasing  vehicles,  in  works 
offiincy  and  amusement,  and  even  useful  information, 


102  SERMON  VIII. 

which  diffuse  irreligion  almost  imperce[|>tibly  through 
the  kingdom,  and  on  which  men  of  real  genius  do  not 
scruple  to  waste  their  time  and  misapply  their  talents. 
These  are  the  books  most  likely  to  fall  into  the  hands, 
and  to  captivate  the  hearts,  of  young  men  of  rank  and 
fortune  at  that  very  dangerous  period  of  life,  when  they 
first  leave  their  colleges  to  mingle  in  the  great  world  ; 
and  on  these,  if  they  have  not  here  been  taught  sound- 
er principles  and  better  things,  they  will  most  probably 
form  their  notions  of  religion,  and  regulate  their  fu- 
ture conduct.  x\dd  to  this  that  a  very  great  part  of 
those  who  are  bred  up  among  us  to  the  church,  and 
from  whose  pious  labors  we  must  chiefly  hope  for  a  re- 
medy to  these  evils,  are  frequently  obliged,  by  the 
straitness  of  their  circumstances,  to  enter  on  the  mini- 
sterial office  within  a  very  short  time  after  they  have  ta- 
ken their  first  degree,  and  are,  many  of  them,  immedi- 
ately engaged  in  large  and  laborious  cures.  If  therefore, 
they  have  not  before  this  time  acquired  some  tolerable 
knowledge  of  their  profession,  hovv'  can  they  undertake 
to  explain  the  Gospel  to  others,  and  defend  it  against 
so  many  formidable  opposers  ?  In  the  two  other 
learned  professions,  law  and  physic,  a  regular 
course  of  study  in  the  theory  of  each  is  generally 
deemed  requisite,  before  those  who  engage  in  either 
think  it  safe  or  creditable  to  venture  on  the  prac- 
tical part  of  their  business.  And  it  ^vill  be  diffi, 
cult,  I  conceive,  to  assign  a  satisfactory  reason,  why 
a  competent  fund  of  professional  knowledge  is  not 
equally  necessary  to  the  divine,  previous  to  his  embark- 
ing in  the  various  and  laborious  functions  of  his.  sacred 
calling ;  unless  it  be  maintained,  that  the  future  salva- 
tion of  mankind  is  a  matter  of  less  importance  than 
their  temporal  property  or  their  bodily  health. 

Does  it  not  then  seem  highly  adviseable  for  us  to 
turn  our  thoughts  a  little  more  towards  this  great  ob- 
ject than  has  been  hitherto  deemed  requisite  ?  It  is 
true,  indeed,  that  some  acquaintance  with  the  abstru- 
ser  sciences  may  be  a  very  proper  foundation  even  for 
theological  learning.     But  it  cannot  surely  be  necessa- 


SERMON    VIII.  103 

ry  to  la)''  this  foundation  so  exceedingly  deep  as  is  here 
generally  done.  It  cannot  be  necessary  to  consume 
the  flower  and  vigor  of  the  youthful  mind,  in  the  very 
first  stage  as  it  were  of  its  literary  progress  ;  to  occu- 
py it  wholly  for  three  entire  years  in  these  preparatory 
studies,  when  it  should  be  going  on  to  the  "  principles" 
and  elements  at  least  "  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ*  ;" 
should  be  advancing  gradually  from  the  foundation  to 
the  superstructure  ;  should  be  learning  under  wise  and 
experienced  "  master-builders,"  to  erect  that  sacred 
edifice  of  divine  knowledge,  ^v•hich  must  he  its  strong 
hold  and  fortress  against  the  many  adversaries  it  will 
soon  have  to  contend  w  iih.  If  this  great  w  ork  is  not 
carried  on  to  a  certain  point,  during  the  course  of  ed- 
ucation in  this  place  ;  when  can  we  hope  that  it  ever 
w ill  ?  They  who  come  here  with  a  view  to  the  means, 
not  of  acquiring,  but  of  adorning  a  fortune,  no  sooner 
quit  this  literary  retirement,  than  they  engage  with  ar- 
dor in  the  various  pursuits  of  fashionable  life,  and  have, 
seldom  either  inclination  or  leisure  for  studies  of  a  seri- 
ous nature.  They  who  are  destined  to  secular  profes- 
sions, or  odier  active  employments,  find  themselves, 
after  leaving  this  place,  so  fully  occupied,  first  in 
learning,  and  then  discharging,  the  duties  of  their  re- 
spective vocations,  that  they  can  scarce  ever  bring 
themselves  to  bestow  tliat  degree  of  attention  on  reli- 
gious enquiries  which  their  importance  deserves.  It  is 
here,  then,  or  no  where,  that  this  great  object  must 
be  brought  home  to  their  thoughts,  and  msde  a  part, 
wi  essential  part,  of  their  academic  acquirements.  And 
this  necessity  (as  I  have  already  remarked)  is  still  more 
apparent  with  respect  to  those  \\\\o  are  sent  here  to 
qualify  themselves  for  the  pastoral  office ;  whose  pe- 
culiar province  and  business  it  will  be  to  insti'uct  the  . 
people  committed  to  their  care  *'  in  the  words  of  eter- 
'*  nal  life,"  and  who  must  therefore  never  expose 
themselves  to  the  hazard  of  that  insulting  question, 
*'  Thou  that  teachest  another,  tcachcst  ihou  not  first 
thyself:" 

*Heb.  yi.  1. 


104  SERMON  Vill. 

It  must  be  acknowledged,  indeed,  and  it  is  ac- 
knowledged with  pleasure,  that  in  many  private  col- 
leges, the  great  outlines  of  the  Christian  dispensation 
are,  by  the  excellent  tutors  with  which  this  place 
abounds,  explained  and  illustrated  in  a  very  able  man- 
ner, to  their  respective  pupils.  But  if  there  be  any 
weight  in  what  has  been  here  suggested,  it  will  be  well 
worthy  of  our  consideration,  whether  something  more 
than  this  is  not  now  become  necessary  ;  whether  it 
will  not  be  highly  suitable  to  the  dignity,  the  sanctity 
of  this  truly  respectable  and  learned  body,  to  lend 
the  whole  weight  of  their  authority  to  so  good  a  cause  ; 
to  assist  private  instructions  by  public  incitement  ;  to 
give  some  signal  academical  encouragement  to  this 
branch  of  knowledge,  something  that  should  make  the 
cultivation  of  it  not  only  highly  reputable  but  indis- 
pensably necessary.  And,  fortunately  for  us,  the 
way  is  easy  and  open  to  the  execution  of  any  such 
design.  That  noble  spirit  of  emulation,  which  so 
eminently  distinguishes  the  youth  of  this  place,  and 
pushes  them  on  to  the  most  wonderful  attainments 
in  the  abstrusest  sciences,  affords  us  an  opportunity, 
which  no  other  seminary  in  the  world  can  furnish, 
of  raising  whatever  fruit  we  please  from  so  generous 
a  stock.  We  have  only  to  make  revealed  religion 
an  essential  pan  of  unique  rsity  learnings  and  assign  to  it 
a  proper  share  of  the  usual  honorary  reward?,,  ar*^J 
*  it  wi)I  soon  be  pursued  with  the  same  ardor  of  mind 
and  vigor  of  application,  as  all  the  other  parts  of  litera- 
ture. The  current  of  study  amongst  us,  which  was 
generally  thought  to  run  too  strongly  towards  ma- 
thematical subjects,  has  of  late  years,  by  means  of 
the  excellent  institutions  in  favor  of  classical  learning, 
been,  in  some  degree,  diverted  into  another  and  more 
useful  course.  By  the  method  here  proposed,  (or 
any  other  of  the  same  tendency  which  should  be  judged 
more  eligible)  there  would  be  one  more,  and  that  a 
still  nobler  channel  opened  to  it :  and  some  few  of 
those  many  hours,  and  those  fine  talents,  which  are 
still,    I  fear,  too  lavi^Iily   v/asted   here    on    abstract 


SERMON  VIII.  105 

speculations,  in  the  most  precious  and  improveablc 
part  of  life,  would  be  then  more  profitably  employed 
in  learning  the  rudiments  of  evangelical  truth  ;  and 
thereby  enabling  one  part  of  our  youth  to  preserve 
their  religious  principles  uncorruptcd  by  the  artifices 
of  infidelity,  in  their  future  commerce  with  the  world  ; 
and  the  other  part  to  become  powerful  defenders  and 
successful  dispensers  of  the  word  of  God*. 

This  university  had,  in  the  conclusion  of  the  last 
century,  the  honor  of  giving  birth  to  a  stupendous  sys- 
tem of  philosophy,  erected  by  its  great  disciple  New- 
ton, on  the  immoveable  basis  of  experiment  and  de- 
monstration ;  which,  by  degrees,  supplanted  and  over- 
threw a  visionary  though  ingenious  representation  of 
nature,  drawn  by  fancy,  and  supported  by  conjecture. 
Animated  with  this  success,  let  it  now  endeavor  to  push 
its  conquest  still  further  into  the  regions  of  ignorance 
and  error,  to  banish  from  the  kingdom  the  extrava- 
gant conceits  of  modern  scepticism,  no  less  destitute  of 
all  foundation  in  truth,  utility,  and  sound  reasoning, 
than  the  philosophical  romance  of  Descartes  ;  and  to 
establish  for  ever  in  the  minds  of  the  British  youth,  a, 
religion  founded  not  on  "  the  enticing  words  of  man's 
*'  wisdom,"  but  on  ''  demonstration  of  the  spirit  and  of 
*'  the  power  of  God  t«" 

This  will  be  to  promote,  in  the  most  eftectual  man- 
ner the  benevolent  purposes  of  those  great  and  pious 
benefactors  we  are  now  going  to  commemorate ;  whose 
frst  object  in  these  magnificent  foundations  was,   un- 

*  Since  the  first  publication  of  this  sermon,  some  advance  has  been  made 
towards  the  accomplishment  of  the  Author's  wishes.  Mr.  Norris,  a 
gentleman  of  fortune  in  Norfolk  (into  whose  hands  some  extracts  from 
this  discourse  happened  to  fall)  left  by  his  will,  a  few  years  ago,  a  rent- 
charge  of  a  hundred  guineas  a-year  for  the  establishment  and  maintenance 
of  a  Professor  in  the  university  of  Cambridge,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  read- 
ing lectures  to  the  students  there,  on  tlie  Christian  Revelation.  To  this  he 
added  twelve  pounds  a-vear  for  a  medal  and  some  books,  as  a  premium  for 
the  best  prose  English  essay  on  the  same  subject.  It  would  be  a  real  conso- 
lation to  the  friends  of  religion,  and  es}>eciaUy  to  those  whore:  province  it  is 
to  exainine  candidates  for  orders,  if  these  well-meant  institutions,  in  con- 
junction with  any  other  subsidiary  one  which  the  wisdom  of  the  university- 
might  think  lit  to  adopt,  should  in  due  time  eiTectually  answer  the  gvcatpiVr- 
poses  enlarged  ujjon  and  recommended  in  the  preceding  pages. 
•|   1  Cor.  ii.  4,  5. 

o 


L 


X06  SERMON  VIII. 

doubtedly,  the  advancement  of  religion  ;  who,  w  ith  a 
true  greatness  of  soul,  carried  their  views  forward  into 
eternity y  and  plainly  meant  that  in  these  elegant  retreats y 
we  should  not  only  lay  the  foundations  of  immortal 
fame  on  earth,  but  qualify  ourselves  for  obtaining, 
through  the  merits  of  our  Redeemer,  a  real  and  truly 
glorious  immortality  in  heaven. 


SERMON  IX. 


Deuteronomy    v.   12. 

Keej}  the  Sabbath-day^  to  sanctify  it,  as  the  Lord  thy  God  hath  com- 
manded  thee. 

THE  appropriation  of  one  day  in  seven  to  the  pur- 
poses of  religion,  is  a  practice  peculiar  to  the 
Je\vish  and  the  Christian  revelations.  And  it  is  a  prac- 
tice so  full  of  wisdom,  utiHty,  and  humanity,  that  it 
may  well  be  produced  as  one  argument,  among  many 
others  still  more  convincing,  of  their  divine  original. 

By  comparing  together  the  primary  institution  of 
the  sabbath,  as  related  in  the  Book  of  Genesis,  and 
the  alterations  it  afterwards  received  from  our  Saviour 
and  his  apostles,  it  is  evident  that  the  Cbistian  sabbath 
is  to  be  considered  under  two  distinct  points  of  view. 

First.     As  a  day  of  rest  from  labor. 

Secondly.     As  a  day  set  apart  for  the  public  wor- 
ship of  God. 

I.     As  a  day  of  rest  from  labor. 

This  rest  was,  by  the  Mosaic  law,  so  rigorously  ex- 
acted, that  the  violation  of  it  was  prohibited  under  no 
less  a  penalty  than  that  of  death*.  Our  divine  Mas- 
ter, in  this  as  well  as  in  many  other  instances,  greatly 
softened  the  severity  of  that  law.  But  yet  it  was  plain- 
ly his  intention,  that  there  should  be  a  general  cessation 
of  labor  on  this  day.  The  original  reason  for  this  part 
Gf  the  institution  still  subsisted  in  his  days,  and  musi 

*  ExoJ.  XXXV.  2. 


108  SERMON  IX. 

subsist  till  the  end  of  time  ;  namely,  that  it  might  be  a 
standing  memorial  of  the  great  nork  of  creation,  from 
which  the  Almighty  Author  of  it  rested^  or  ceased,  on 
the  seventh  day,  and  therefore  he  blessed  and  sanctifi- 
ed that  day  for  ever.  To  this  Christ  himself  added 
another  reason,  of  a  similar  nature ;  having  on  the 
following  day  rested  from  the  great  work  of  redemp- 
tion, which  he  completed  by  rising  from  the  dead.  Our 
abstinence,  therefore  from  the  ordinary  occupations  of 
life  on  the  Lord's  Day,  is  a  tacit  kind  of  acknowledg- 
ment that  we  were  created  by  God,  and  redeemed  by 
Christ,  and  that  we  are  duly  sensible  of  the  duties  re- 
sulting from  those  relations.  It  appears,  moreover, 
that  our  Lord  himself  very  religiously  observed  the 
rest  of  the  sabbath ;  which  he  no  otherwise  interrupt- 
ed than  by  miracles  of  mercy  and  compassion.  And 
we  may  most  certainly  conclude,  that  the  very  same 
benevolence  of  disposition  which  dictated  these  hu- 
mane exceptions,  would  prompt  him  also  to  improve 
and  enforce,  both  by  his  doctrine  and  example,  the  ge- 
neral rule  o^7-esting  on  the  seventh  day.  For  never  was 
there  any  injunction  so  replete  with  kindness  and  com- 
passion to  the  whole  human  race,  especially  to  the  low- 
est and  most  wretched  part  of  it,  as  this.  There  can- 
not be  a  more  pleasing  or  a  more  consolatory  idea  pre- 
sented to  the  human  mind,  than  that  of  0J7e  imhersal 
pause  of  labor  throughout  the  whole  Christian  world  at 
the  same  moment  of  time  ;  diffusing  rest,  comfort,  and 
peace  through  a  large  part  of  the  habitable  globe,  and 
affording  ease  and  refreshment,  not  only  to  the  lowest 
part  of  our  own  species,  but  to  our  fellow- laborers  in 
the  brute  creation.  Even  these  are  enabled  to  join  in 
this  silent  act  of  adoration,  this  mute  kind  of  homage 
to  the  great  Lord  of  all ;  and  although  they  are  incapa- 
ble of  any  sentiment  of  religion,  yet  by  this  means  they 
become  sharers  in  the  blessings  of  it.  Every  man  of 
the  least  sensibility  must  see,  must  feel  the  beauty  and 
utility  of  such  an  institution  as  this  ;  and  must  see,  at 
the  same  time,  the  cruelty  of  invading  this  most  valua- 
ble privilege  of  the   inferior   class  of  mankind,  and 


SERMON    IX.  109 

breaking  in  upon  that  sacred  repose,  which  God  him- 
self has,  in  pity  to  their  suflerings,  given  to  those  that 
stand  most  in  need  of  it.  It  was  a  point  in  which  it 
higlilv  became  the  majesty  and  the  goodness  of  heaven 
itself  to  interpose.  And  happy  m  as  it  for  the  world 
that  it  did  so.  For,  had  man,  unfeeling  man,  been  left 
to  himself,  with  no  other  spur  to  compassion  than  na- 
tural instinct,  or  unassisted  reason,  there  is  but  too 
much  ground  to  apprehend  he  would  have  been  deaf  to 
the  cries  of  his  laboring  brethren,  would  have  harassed 
and  M'orn  them  out  with  incessant  toil ;  and  when  they 
implored,  by  looks  and  signs  of  distress,  some  little  in- 
termission, A\'ould  perhaps  have  answered  them  in  the 
language  of  Pharaoh's  task-masters,  "  Ye  are  idle,  ye 
*' are  idle.  There  shall  not  aught  of  your  daily  tasks 
"  be  diminished ;  let  inore  ivork  be  laid  upon  them, 
"  that  they  may  labor  therein*-." 

That  this  is  no  uncandid  representation  of  the  natural 
hardness  of  the  human  heart,  till  it  is  subdued  and  sof- 
tened by  the  influences  of  divine  grace,  we  have  but 
too  many  unanswerable  proofs,  in  the  savage  treatment 
which  the  slaves  of  the  antients,  even  of  the  most  civ- 
ilized and  polished  antients,  met  with  from  dieir  unre- 
lenting masters.  To  them,  alas  !  there  was  no  sab- 
bath, no  seventh  day  of  rest !  The  whole  week,  the 
whole  year,  was,  in  general,  with  but  few  exceptions, 
one  uninterrupted  round  of  labor,  tyranny,  and  op- 
pression. 

To  these  inliumanities  the  merciful  temper  of  our 
religion  has  in  a  great  measure  put  an  end  ;  but  there 
are  others,  arising  from  the  most  shameful  intrusions 
on  the  sacred  leisure  of  the  sabbath,  which  it  has  not 
yet  been  able  to  overcome.  Look  into  the  streets  of 
this  great  metropolis  on  the  Lord's  Day,  and  see 
whether  they  convey  the  idea  of  a  day  of  rest.  Do 
not  our  servants  and  our  cattle  seem  to  be  almost  as 
fully  occupied  on  that  day  as  on  any  other  ?  And,  as 
if  this  was  not  a  sufficient  infringement  of  their  rights, 
we  contrive,  by  needless  entertainments  at  home,  and 

*  ExoJ.  V.  9.  11.  17. 


no  SERMON   IX. 

needless  journies  abroad,  M^hich  are  often  hy  choice  and 
inclination  reseriicd  for  this  very  day,  to  take  up  all  the 
little  remaining  part  of  their  leisure  time.  A  sabbath- 
day's  journey  was,  among  the  Jews,  a  proverbial  ex- 
pression for  a  very  short  owc^.  Among  us  it  can  have 
no  such  meaning  affixed  to  it.  That  day  seems  to  be 
considered  by  too  many,  as  set  apart,  by  divine  and 
human  authority,  for  the  purpose,  not  of  rcst^  but  of 
its  direct  opposite,  the  labor  of  travelling ;  thus  ad- 
ding one  day  more  of  torment  to  those  generous  but 
wretched  animals  whose  services  they  hire  ;  and  who, 
being  generally  strained  beyond  their  strength  the  oth- 
er six  days  of  the  week,  have  of  all  creatures  under 
heaven,  the  best  and  most  equitable  claim  to  suspen- 
sion of  labor  on  the  seventh.  Considerations  such  as 
these  may  perhaps  appear  to  some  below  the  dignity 
of  this  place,  and  the  solemnity  of  a  Christian  assem- 
bly. But  benevolence,  even  to  the  brute  creation,  is, 
in  its  degree,  a  duty,  no  less  than  to  our  own  species  ; 
and  it  is  mentioned  by  Solomon  as  a  striking  feature  in 
the  character  of  a  'righteous  man,  that  "  he  is  merci- 
"  ful  even  to  his  beast."  He,  without  whose  permis- 
sion "  not  a  sparrow  falls  to  the  ground,  and  who  feed- 
^'  eth  the  young  ravens  that  call  upon  him,"  will  not 
suffer  even  the  meanest  work  of  his  hands  to  be  treat- 
ed cruelly  with  impunity.  He  is  the  common  father  of 
the  whole  creation.  He  takes  every  part  of  it  under 
his  protection.  He  has,  in  various  passages  of  Scrip- 
ture, expressed  his  concern  even  for  irrational  crea- 
tures, and  has  declared  more  especially,  in  the  most 
explicit  terms,  that  the  rest  of  the  sabbath  was  meant 
for  our  cattle  and  our  servants^  as  well  as  for  ourselves. 
II.  But  cessation  from  labor  is  not  the  only  duty  of 
the  Lord's  Day.  Although  it  is  to  be  a  day  of  rest^ 
yet  it  is  not  to  be,  what  too  many  seem  willing  to 
make  it,  a  day  of  indolence  and  iimctimty.  There  are 
employments  marked  out  for  it  of  a  very  important  na^ 
ture  J  and  of  these  the  first  and  most  essential  is, 


SERMON  IX.  Ill 

THE     PUBLIC     WORSHIP    OF    GoD. 

It  is  evident,  both  from  reason  and  Scripture,  that 
public  worship  is  a  most  useful  and  indispensable 
duty.  It  is  equally  evident,  that  if  this  duty  is  to  be 
performed,  some  fixed  and  stated  time  for  performing 
it  is  absolutely  necessary  :  for  w  ilhout  this  it  is  im- 
possible that  any  number  of  persons  can  ever  be  col- 
lected together  in  one  place.  Now  one  day  in  seven, 
seems  to  be  as  proper  and  convenient  a  portion  of  our 
time,  to  be  allotted  to  this  use,  as  any  other  that  can 
be  named.  "  Tl>e  returns  of  it  are  frecjucnt  enough 
to  keep  alive  the  sense  of  religion  in  our  hearts,  and 
distant  enough  to  leave  a  very  sufficient  interval  for 
our  worldly  concerns." 

If  then  this  time  was  fixed  only  by  the  laws,  or  even 
by  the  customs  of  our  country,  it  would  be  our  duty 
and  our  wisdom  to  comply  with  it.  Considering  it 
merely  as  an  antient  usage,  yet  if  antiquity  can  render 
an  usage  venerable,  this  must  be  of  all  others  the  most 
venerable  :  for  it  is  coeval  with  the  world  itself.  But 
it  had  moreover,  as  we  have  seen,  the  sanction  of  a 
divine  command.  From  the  very  beginning  of  time 
God  blessed  and  sanctified  the  seventh  day  to  the  pur- 
poses of  religion*.  That  injunction  was  again  re- 
peated to  the  Jews  in  the  most  solemn  manner  at  the 
promulgation  of  their  law  from  mount  Sinai  f,  and 
once  more  urged  upon  them  by  Moses  in  the  words 
of  the  text;  "Keep  the  Sabbath-day,  to  sanctify  it,  as> 
*'  the  Lord  thy  God  hath  commanded  thee." 

After  our  Lord's  resurrection,  the  first  day  of  the 
week  was,  in  memory  of  that  great  event,  substituted 
in  the  room  of  the  seventh  ;  and  from  that  time  to  the 
present,  that  is,  for  almost  eighteen  hundred  years, 
it  has  been  constantly  set  apart  for  the  public  worship 
of  God  by  die  whole  Christain  world.  And,  whatever 
difference  of  opinion  there  may  have  been  in  other 
respects,  in  this  all  parties,  sects,  and  denominations 
of  Christians  have  universally  and  invariably  agreed. 
By  these  means  it  comes  to  pass,  that  on  this  day 

»  Gen.  ii.  S.  f  Exodus  xx.  8,  9,  10,  11. 


112  SERMON   IX. 

many  millions  of  people,  in  almost  every  region  of 
the  earth,  are  at  one  and  the  same  time  engaged  in 
prostrating  themselves  before  the  throne  of  grace, 
and  offering  up  their  sacrifice  of  prayer,  praise,  and 
thanksgiving  to  the  common  Lord  of  all,  "in  whom 
*'  they  live,  and  move,  and  have  their  being." 

There  is  in  this  view  of  the  Lord's  Day  something 
so  wonderfully  awful  and  magnificent,  that  one  would 
think  it  almost  impossible  for  any  man  to  resist  the 
inclination  he  must  find  in  himself  to  join  in  this 
general  assembly  of  the  human  race  ;  "  to  go  with  the 
*'  multitude,"  as  the  psalmist  expresses  it,  "  into  the 
"  house  of  God,"  and  to  lake  a  part  in  a  solemnity  so 
striking  to  the  imagination,  so  suitable  to  the  majesty 
of  Heaven,  so  adapted  to  the  wants,  the  necessities, 
the  infirmities,  the  obligations  and  the  duties  of  a 
created  and  a  dependent  being. 

That  they  who  avow  an  open  contempt  of  all  reli- 
gion, and  j&ro/^^-^  to  live  without  God  in  the  world, 
witlwut  any  belief  of  his  existence,  or  at  least  of  his 
providential  superintendence ;  that  these,  I  say,  should 
think  it  a  very  needless  waste  of  time  to  attend  divine 
service,  can  be  no  wonder.  But  that  any  person  viho 
calls  himself  a  discinle  of  Christ,  or  even  a  believer  in 
one  Supreme  Being,  should  either  totally  neglect,  or 
but  rarely  frequent  the  public  worship  of  God  on  that 
only  day  which  laws,  both  human  and  divine,  have  ap- 
propriated to  it,  is  an  instance  of  contempt  for  the  most 
sacred  and  most  useful  institutions,  which  one  should 
hardly  be  disposed  to  credit,  if  constant  and  melan- 
choly experience  did  not  too  clearly  prove  the  reality 
of  the  fact.  We  see  continually  that  the  most  trivial 
pretences  of  weather,  of  indisposition,  of  business, 
of  comf)any  ;  pretences  which  would  not  be  suffered 
to  interfere  one  moment  w  ith  any  favorite  pursuit, 
or  amusement ;  are  thought  reasons  of  sufficient 
weight  to  justify  us  in  slighting  the  express  com- 
mands, and  deserting  the  service  of  our  Maker  and 
our  Redeemer.  And  it  is  greatly  to  be  lamented,  that 
these  neglects  have  generally  been  observed  to  be  most 


SERMON  XL  113 

prevalent  among  those  whose  education  and  rank  in  hfe 
should  have  iurnished  them  with  the  best  principles  and 
the  completcst  kno\vled|2;c  of  their  duty ;  whose  ex- 
ample is  most  open  to  observation,  and  has  the  great- 
est influence  on  pul)lic  manners  ;  whose  large  propor- 
tion of  worldly  blessings  demands  a  more  tlian  ordina- 
ry warmth  of  gratitude  to  Heaven  ;  and  whose  situa- 
tion exposes  them  to  such  a  variety  of  trying  circiun- 
stances  as  require  a  more  than  ordinary  share  of  divine 
assistance*. 

But  supposing  our  attendance  on  the  house  of  God 
to  be  such  as  it  ought,  there  still  remains  a  question  of 
no  small  importance  :  How  are  we  to  employ  the  re- 
maining part  of  the  Lord's  Day  ?  Are  u  c  to  dedicate 
it  altogether  to  private  devotion  and  religious  medi- 
tation, to  seclude  ourselves  from  all  society,  and  to 
assume  an  affected  gloom  of  countenance  and  severity 
of  deportment  ;  or,  may  we  freely  give  the  reins  to 
our  inclination  for  pleasure,  and  indulge  ourselves 
without  reserve  in  all  the  usual  gayeties  and  amuse- 
ments of  the  other  six  days  in  the  week  ?  Both  these 
extremes  may  be  seen  among  different  denominations 
of  Christians  in  foreign  kingdoms  ;  and  they  have  each, 
at  different  periods,  been  adopted  in  this.  At  the  be- 
ginning of  the  last  century,  a  book  of  sports  and  pas- 
times for  Sundays  was  set  forth,  and  recommended  to 
the  good  people  of  tliis  land  by  a  princef ,  who  has 
been  sometimes  celebrated  for  his  wisdom,  but  who  in 
this  instance  certainl)^  was  not  wise.  It  gave  great, 
and,  it  must  be  owned,  just  offence  to  the  rising  sect 
of  Puritans  ;  who,  in  the  next  reign,  thinking  it  im- 
possible to  recede  too  mucli  from  the  former  profana- 
tions of  the  Lord's  Day,  ran  with  too  much  vehemence 
into  the  opposite  extreme  ;  and  converted  the  most  joy- 
ful of  all  festivals  into  a  day  of  silent,  sullen,  austere 

*  It  must  be  acknowledged,  indeed,  that  the  present  remarkable  thinncsf. 
of  our  churches  on  Sundays,  at  the  East  as  well  as  the  West  end  of  die  loww 
(more  especially  at  the  time  of  trccniiig  servicg,  which  is  now  but  too  gene- 
rally given  tip  as  q'litc  supert^uous)  is  a  ].>roof,  that  neglect  of  divine  worship 
is-not  conlined  to  she  great,  but  has  pervaded  almost  erery  class  ©f  people  \.\ 
this  capital, 

f  James  the  First. 
P 


114  SERMON  IX. 

reserve,    and    a    rigorous    abstinence     from     every 
thing  that  had  the   smallest  tincture  of  good  luimor. 
When  all  tliese  extravagancies  had  subsided,  and  the 
constitution,  both   civil   and  ecclesiastical,  recovered 
its  antient  form,    the  Church  of  England,  with  that 
Avisdom  and  moderation  which  have  generally  govern- 
ed its  decisions,  took  a  middle  course  with  respect  to 
the  observation  of  Sunday.     In  conformity  to  antient 
statutes  and  usages,  it  discouraged  all  public  spectacles 
and  diversions,  but  allowed  the  more  rational  pleasures 
of  society,  and  the  cheerfulness  of  friendly  intercourse 
and  conversation ;  thus  drawing  the  line,  with  a  dis- 
creetand  a  skilful  hand,  between  the  two  opposite  ex- 
tremes  of  pharisaical  prcciseness,  and  secular  dissipa- 
tion.    This  prudent  medium  has  now  for  many  years 
been  preserved  among  us  ;  but  how  much  longer  it  will 
be  preserved,  seems  at  present  no  easy  matter  to  say. 
The  licence  of  the  times,  however  daring  in  other  re- 
spects, had  hitherto  spared  the  day  consecrated  to  our 
Maker.     But  it  has  now  carried  its  oiUrages  even  irtto 
that  once  awful  sanctuary.     In  the  very  midst  of  all 
our  dangers  and  distresses,  v,  hen  it  did  not  seem  to  be 
quite  the  time  for  setting  Heaven  at  defiance,  new  in- 
vasions of  the  Sabbath  have  sprung  up  with  surprising 
eHVontery  ;  and  we  are  rapidly  departing  from  that  sim- 
plicity, sobriety,  and  purity,  in  which  this  holy  festival 
has  been  delivered  down  to  us  by  our  ancestors.     Va- 
rious places  of  amusement  for  the  Sunday  evening,  un- 
known to  former  ages,  unknown,  I  believe,  to  any  oth- 
er Christian  country,  have  been  openly  announced,  and 
to  the  disgrace  of  our  religion  and  our  laws,  have  been 
as  openly  frequented*. 

But  how  can  we  wonder  at  these  strange  extravagan- 
cies in  the  louer  classes  of  the  people,  when  they  only 

*  Since  this  was  written,  the  wisdom  of  the  legislature  has,  by  an  express 
act  of  parliament,  effectually  suppressed  these  nuisances  ;  some  of  which, 
from  the  best  and  most  authentic  information,  I  have  reason  to  believe 
•were  nurseries  of  popery,  infidelity,  and  vice.  It  is  to  be  hoped,  that  the 
same  high  authority  will,  at  aproper  time,  proceed  to  the  correction  of  vari- 
ous other  abuses,  that  still  infringe,  in  a  flagrant  degree,  the  rest  and  the  de- 
votion of  the  Lord's  Day,  but  which  it  was  thought  not  prudent  to  include  ir 
the  abore-inentioned  act. 


SERMON  IX.  115 

improve  a- little  on  the  liberties  taken  by  too  many  of 
their  superiors  r  If  they  see  magnificent  gaming-houses 
erected,  and  publicly  resorted  to  on  d:ie  Lord's  Day  ; 
if  they  see  that  pernicious  amusement  admitted  on  the 
same  day  even  into  private  families  ;  if  they  see  nume- 
rous and  splendid  assemblies  disturbing  the  repose, 
and  violating  the  sanctity  of  the  Sunday  evening,  what 
do  we  think  must  be  the  consequence  ?  Is  it  not  appa- 
rent that  they  will  learn  from  their  betters  the  fatal  les- 
son of  insulting  the  most  venerable  customs  of  their 
country,  and  the  most  sacred  ordinances  of  Heaven  ? 
that  diey  will  soon  even  excel  their  masters,  and  carry 
their  contempt  of  decency  far  beyond  the  original  ex- 
amples of  it,  which  made  the  first  impression  on  their 
minds  ? 

But  apart  from  tliese  consequences,  which  are  al- 
ready but  too  visible,  it  behoves  every  man,  who  indul- 
ges himself  in  any  unwarrantable  freedoms  on  the  Lord's 
Day,  to  consider  very  seriously,  "  what  spirit  he  is  of,'* 
and  what  the  turn  of  mind  must  be  from  a\  hence  such 
conduct  springs.  If,  after  having  spent  six  days  out 
of  seven  in  a  constant  round  of  amusements,  he  cannot 
exist  without  them  even  on  the  seventh,  it  is  high  time 
for  him  to  look  to  his  own  heart,  to  check  his  greedy 
appetite  for  pleasure,  and  to  put  himself,  without  delay, 
under  the  direction  of  higher  and  better  principles.  If 
v.e  cannot  give  up  these  follies  one  day  in  the  week, 
how  shall  we  bring  ourselves  to  part  with  them,  as  at 
last  we  must,  for  ever.  ?  Would  it  not  be  infinitely  more 
wise  and  prudent  to  disentangle  ourselves  from  them 
by  degrees,  and  to  try  whether  it  is  not  possible  to  ac- 
quire a  relish  for  worthier  enjoyments  ?  To  assist  us 
in  this  most  useful  work,  and  to  put  this  world,  and  all 
its  frivolous  pursuits,  for  a  few  moments,  out  of  our 
thoughts,  was  one  great  purpose  of  the  Christian  Sab- 
bath ;  and  it  is  a  purpose  for  which  we  of  the  present 
times  ought  to  be  peculiarly  thankful.  For  a  day  of 
rest  from  diversions,  is  now  become  as  necessary  to  one 
part  of  the  w-orld,  as  a  day  of  rest  from  labor  is  to  the 
other.     Let  us  then  give  ourselves  a  little  respite,  a  lit- 


116  SERMON  IX. 

tic  refreshment  from  the  fatigue  of  pleasure.  Let  us 
not  suffer  diversions  of  any  kind,  much  less  of  a  suspi- 
cious and  a  dangerous  kind,  to  intrude  on  that  small 
portion  of  time  which  God  hath  appropriated  to  himself, 
The  whole  of  it  is  barely  suflicient  for  the  important 
uses  to  which  it  is  destined,  and  to  defraud  our  Maker 
of  any  considerable  part  of  it  is  a  species  of  sacrilege. 
'  But  how  then  (you  will  say)  shall  we  fill  up  all  those 
dull,  tedious  hours,  that  are  not  spent  in  the  public  ser- 
vice of  the  church  ?  How  shall  we  prevent  that  almost 
irresistible  languor  and  heaviness  which  are  so  apt  to 
take  possession  of  our  minds,  for  want  of  our  usual  di- 
versions and  occupations  on  this  day  ? 

Surely  it  can  require  no  great  stretch  of  invention  or 
ingenuity  to  find  out  means  of  employing  our  vacant 
time,  both  innocently  and  agreeably.  Besides  the  soci- 
ety and  conversation  of  our  friends,  from  which  wc  arc 
by  no  means  precluded,  might  we  not  for  a  few  hours 
find  amusement  in  contemplating  the  wisdom,  the  jiow- 
er,  the- goodness  of  God  in  the  works  of  his  creation  ? 
And  might  we  not  draw  entertainment,  as  well  as  im- 
provement, from  some  of  the  sublimer  parts  of  that  sa- 
cred volume  which  contains  "  the  words  of  eternal  life," 
and  with  which  therefore  it  surely  concerns  us  to  liavc 
some  little  acquaintance  ? 

Or,  if  more  active  recreations  are  required,  what 
think  you  of  that  which  you  may  make  as  active  as  you 
please,  and  which  was  in  fact  the  supreme  delight  of  our 
divine  Master,  the  recreation  of  doing  good?  If,  for  in- 
stance, it  be  at  all  necessary  (and  when  was  it  e\ er 
jiiore  necessary  ?)  to  instil  into  the  minds  of  your  chil- 
dren sound  principles  of  virtue  and  religion  ;  if  you 
have  any  plans  of  benevolence  to  form,  any  acts  of  kind- 
ness or  compassion  to  execute  ;  if  you  have  commit^- 
ted  injuries  which  ought  to  be  repaired  ;  if  you  have 
received  injuries  vJiich  ought  to  be  forgiven  ;  if  friends 
or  relations  are  at  variance,  vv-hom  by  a  reasonable  in- 
terposition it  would  be  easy  to  reconcile  ;  if  those  you 
most  esteem  and  love  stand  in  need  of  advice,  of  reproof, 
of  assistance,  of  support ;  if  any  occasions,  in  short, 


SERMON  IX.  117 

present  themselves  of  convincinp;  the  unbeliever,  of  re- 
claiming the  sinner,  of  saving  the  unexperienced,  of 
instructing  the  ignorant,  of  encouraging  the  penitent, 
of  soothing  the  aliiicted,  of  protecting  tlie  oppressed  ; 
Iiow  can  you  more  profitably,  or  more  delightfully,  cm- 
j)loy  }'our  Sunday  leisure,  than  in  the  performance  of 
such  duties  as  these  ;  in  demonstrating  your  piety  and 
gratitude  to  God,  by  diffusing  joy  and  comfort  to  every 
part  you  can  reach  of  that  creation,  v.  hich  was  the 
work  of  his  hands,  and  from  ;\  hich  he  rested  on  the 
seventh  day  ? 

Occupations  like  these  are  in  their  own  nature  cheer- 
ful and  enlivening,  infinitely  more  so  than  that  most 
gloomy  of  all  amusements,  which  is  too  often  substitu- 
ted in  their  room.  They  are  suited  to  the  character  of 
the  day.  They  partake  in  some  measure  of  its  sanctity. 
They  are  (as  all  the  amusements  of  such  a  day  ought 
to  be)  refined,  intellectual,  spiritual.  They  fill  up  with 
propriety  and  consistency,  the  intervals  of  divine  wor- 
ship, and  in  concurrence  w  ith  that,  \vill  help  to  draw 
off  our  attention  a  little  from  the  objects  that  perpetually 
surround  us,  to  wean  us  gradually  and  gently  from  a 
scene  which  we  must  some  time  or  other  quit,  to  raise 
our  thoughts  to  higher  and  nobler  contemplations,  *'  to 
*'  fix  our  affections  on  things  above,"  and  thus  qualify 
lis  for  entering  into  that  heavenly  sabbath,  that 
EVERLASTING  REST,  of  vvhich  the  Christian  Sabbath 
is  in  some  degree  an  emblem,  and  for  which  it  was 
naeant  to  prepare  and  sanctify  our  souls. 


I  a-iui«—— a 


SERMON  X. 


1  Cor.  i.  22,  23,  24. 

The  Jevjs  require  a  sign^  and  the  Greeks  seek  after  wisdom  :  but 
ive  preach  Christ  crucified  ;  unto  the  Jews  a  stianbling-block^ 
and  unto  the  Greeks  foolishness  ;  but  unto  them  which  are 
called.)  both  Jews  aiid  Greeks,  Christ  the  power  of  God,  aiid. 
the  wisdom  of  God. 

I 

^NE  of  the  principal  causes  of  the  disgust  which 
many  persons  have  taken  at  the  Gospel  of  Christ, 
is  the  very  common,  but  very  unfair  practice  of  judging 
of  it  by  preconcehed  expectations.  They  are  not  content 
to  take  what  God  thinks  fit  to  give ;  to  consider  what 
it  is  that  the  Christian  Revelation  really  pretends  to, 
what  the  ends  are  which  it  has  in  view,  and  how  those 
pretensions  are  supported  and  those  ends  answered  : 
but  they  sit  down  and  fancy  to  themselves  what  kind 
of  religion  the  Almighty  ought  to  propose,,  and  ihey 
should  chuse  to  receive  ;  and  then,  not  finding  Chris- 
tianity correspond  to  these  imaginations,  they  are  dis- 
appointed and  oftended,  and  reject  the  offer  of  salva- 
tion made  to  them,  because  it  is  not  made  precisely  in 
their  own  way.  Many  instances  of  this  unreasonable 
and  perverse  conduct  might  be  produced  from  the  wri- 
tings  both  of  ancient  and  modern  infidels.  But  we 
need  go  no  farther  than  the  text  for  a  very  remarkable 
one ;  which  will  at  once  confirm  the  truth  of  the  gen- 
eral position  here  advanced,  and  suggest  some  useful 
and  seasonable  reflections. 


SERMON    X.  11<? 

Both  Jews  and  Greeks  were,  it  seems,  exceedingly 
offended  at  the  cross  of  Christy  at  the  doctrine  of  a 
crucified  Saviour,  or  deliverer  of  mankind.  But  w  hat 
were  the  grounds  of  this  great  oftence  ?  Tlie  apostle 
plainly  tells  us.  The  reason  was,  "  because  the  Jews 
"  required  a  sign,  andthcGreeks  sought  after  wisdom." 
That  is,  because  they  had  each  of  them  previously  set- 
tled their  notions  of  the  manner  in  which  God  ought  to 
interpose  for  the  reformation  and  preser\'ation  of  man- 
kind ;  and  therefore,  whatever  contradicted  these  ideas 
M'hich  they  had  taken  up,  would  appear  to  them  in  the 
highest  degree  improbable  and  absurd. 

The  Jews,  it  is  well  known,  by  taking  in  too  literal 
a  sense  some  high- wrought  figurative  descriptions  of 
the  Messiah's  spiritual  kingdom  and  glory  (especially 
a  very  remarkable  one  in  the  prophet  Daniel*)  and  by 
laying  more  stress  on  these  misinterpreted  passages, 
and  the  groundless  traditions  of  the  Pharisees,  than  on 
the  plainer  and  more  intelligible  parts  of  the  propheti- 
cal w  ritiiigs,  had  worked  themselves  into  a  firm  per- 
suasion, that  the  promised  Saviour  was  to  be  a  great 
and  powerful  temporal  prince.  They  imagined,  there- 
fore,  that  his  first  appearance  on  earth  Avould  be  suita- 
ble to  such  a  character,  splendid  and  magnificent ;  that 
he  would  by  a  series  of  victories,  or  some  decisive 
blow,  not  only  rescue  them  from  the  Roman  yoke,  but 
even  extend  the  bounds  and  restore  the  lustre  of  die 
ancient  Jewish  kingdom. 

When  therefore,  as  the  text  expresses  it,  "  they 
required  a  sign,"  they  did  not  mean  any  great  miracle 
in  general,  nor  even  (as  is  commonly  supposed)  any 
kind  of  sign,  without  distinction,  ^§7^<;«/ro7«/?<;'flW7/;  but 
they  meant,  probably,  that  precise  individual  sign 
above-mentioned,  The  sign  of  the  Messiah  coming 
ivith 'Visible  glory  in  the  clouds  of  bemen,  with  his 
holy  angels  routid  him,  and  all  the  other  ensigns  of 
celestial  grandeurf.  This  illustrious  appearance  of 
tiieir  promised  deliverer,  they  considered  as  so  essen- 

•  Dan.  vii.  13,  14. 
t  Stfc  Gerard  on  the  Ceniiw  aaJ  Lvidence  of  Christianitv,  p.  177—205. 


12Q  SERMON   X. 

tial  to  his  character,  so  indispensable  a  mark  of  his 
heavenly  original,  that  they  distinguished  it  by  the 
name  of  the  sig?i  of  the  Sm  of  Man^  the  sign  af  his 
coming^.  And,  what  is  very  remarkable,  they  fre- 
quently demanded  this  sign,  even  immediately  after 
our  Saviour  had  worked  the  most  astonishing  miraclesf. 
The  reason  of  this  was,  because  they  thought  that  no 
regard  was  due  even  to  miracles,  or  to  any  other 
evidence,  so  long  as  that  capital  arid  decisive  one,  that 
sign  from  heaven,  on  which  they  had  set  their  hearts, 
was  wanting.  And  this  accounts  also  for  another 
thing,  no  less  extraordinary,  at  whicli  some  persons 
have  been  much  surprised  and  offended  ;  namely,  that 
our  Saviour  constantly  refused  to  give  them  the  sign 
they  demanded.  If  this  sign,  it  is  said,  would  have 
convinced  and  converted  them  ;  why  should  they  not 
have  been  gratified  with  it  ?  The  fact  was,  that  they 
could  not  possibly  be  gratified  with  it  ;  because  it  was 
inconsistent  with  that  humble  and  lowly  character,  in 
which  for  the  wisest  reasons,  God  designed,  and  the 
prophets  foretold  that  the  Redeemer  of  the  world 
should  actually  appear.  The  sign  they  wished  for, 
was  founded  on  an  expectation  of  his  descending 
visibly  from  heaven  to  this  lower  world  v,  ith  the  ut- 
most splendor  and  magnificence.  Whereas  it  was 
always  intended  and  predicted  that  lie  should  be  born 
of  an  earthly  parent  ;  should  live  in  an  obscure  and 
indigent  condition  of  life  ;  should  be  despised,  re- 
jected, put  to  death  upon  the  cross,  laid  in  the  grave, 
and  rise  from  it  again  the  third  day.  And  therefore 
his  almost  constant  reply,  v>hen  they  asked  a  sign, 
was,  "  An  evil  and  adulterous  generation  seeketh  after 
"  a  sign,  and  there  shall  no  sign  be  given  it,  but  the 
"  sign  of  the  prophet  Jonas±."  By  which  figurative 
allusion,  he  meant  to  signify  his  own  death,  burial,  and 
resurrection.  This  was  in  effect  saying  to  them, 
"  You  ask  a  sign  from  hea^ven  ;  but   the  only  sign,  I 

*  J.Iatth.   xxiv.  3.  30. 

f  lb.  xvi.  1  ;  xii.  38.     John  ii.  18,  19,  20. 

\  Matrh.  xii.  39  ;  xvi.  4,. 


SERMON    X.  121 

^hall  vouchsafe  to  give  you  will  be  a  sigu  from  the 
earth.  Instead  of  descendin,c^  from  above,  as  you  ex- 
pect, in  visible  pomp  and  triumph  I  shall  rise  w  ilh  still 
greater  triumph  from  the  grave,  after  being  numbered 
three  days  with  the  dead." 

Still  however  they  persisted  in  demanding  their 
favorite  sign  ;  and  with  this  fiiise  idea  of  the  Messiah's 
character  in  their  mind,  which  could  never  be  rooted 
out,  it  is  easy  to  see  how  very  ill  disposed  they  must 
be  to  receive  and  acknowledge  a  humble,  suffering, 
crucified  Redeemer.  That  he  was  "  the  son  of  a  car- 
*'  penter  ;  that  he  was  born  at  an  inn,  and  laid  in  a 
"  manger ;  that  he  eat  and  drank  with  publicans  and 
*'  sinners,  and  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head,"  these 
were  circumstances  of  themselves  fully  sufficient  to 
shock  their  prejudices  and  disgust  their  pride.  But 
when  he  -\vas  moreover  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  his 
enemies,  Avas  mocked,  and  buffetted  and  scourged,  and 
at  length  nailed  to  the  cross  ;  this  they  must  consider 
as  the  most  undeniable  proof  of  his  being  an  impostor, 
and  would  as  soon  have  believed  Barabbas  to  have 
been  their  Messiah  as  him.  If,  indeed,  even  then,  he 
wqmW  have  given  them  what  they  wanted,  a  sign  frov.i 
heaiicn ;  if  he  would  have  come  down  from  the  cross, 
w^ould  have  made  his  appearance  again,  2L^from  heaven, 
with  every  external  mark  of  celestial  magnificence,  and 
restored  the  kingdom  again  to  Israel,  they  declared 
that  they  would  still  have  believed  on  him.  "If  he 
"  be  THE  KING  OF  ISRAEL,"  Said  they,  "let  him 
"  now  come  down  from  the  cross*."  let  him  openly 
shew  his  real  power,  "  and  we  will  believe  him."  He 
saved  others,  it  is  true,  he  worked  many  astonishing 
miracles  ;  but,  unless  he  saved  himself  too,  unless  he 
answered  their  exalted  notions  of  the  Messiah,  he  could 
not  possibl}'  be  the  Son  of  God.  His  miracles  must ' 
have  been  \vrought  by  Beelzebub,  and  he  as  little  wor^ 
thy  of  credit  as  the  malefactors  who  suSered  with  him. 

Such  were  the  prepossessions  which  made  Chri si- 
crucified  A  STUMBLING-BLOCK  TO  THE  JEV>^S.    The 
*  Matth.  ^xr\.A2. 

Q 


122  SERMON  X. 

prejudices  which  made  him  toolishness  to  thk^ 
GREEKS  were  of  a  different  nature.  The  Greeks  were' 
at  that  time,  \\'hen  the  Gospel  was  first  preached  to  them, 
as  they  had  been  long  before,  the  polite  scholars  vstd 
the  fashionable  philosophers  of  the  age.  The  great  bu- 
siness and  delight  of  these  men  \vas  to  speculate  on 
nice  metaphysical  points,  such  as,  the  first  principles 
and  elements  of  things,  the  nature  of  the  gods,  the  na- 
ture of  the  human  soul,  the  chief  good,  the  several  di- 
visions of  virtue,  the  origin  of  good  and  evil,  and  other 
subjects  of  the  same  kind.  In  these  disquisitions,  all 
that  they  aimed  at  was,  not  to  arrive  at  certainty  (for 
that  many  of  them  declared  to  be  absolutely  impossible) 
much  less  to  apply  the  result  of  their  disputations  to  any 
one  useful  purpose  of  life  ;  but  merely  to  indulge  an 
insatiable  appetite  for  something  ?ie%Vj  to  gratify  an  idle 
and  vain  curiosity,  to  amuse  themselves  and  others 
with  subtle  arguments  and  acute  distinctions,  to  shew 
tlieir  ingenuity  in  managing  a  dispute,  in  proposing  cap- 
tious and  artful  questions,  in  creating  doubts  and  rai- 
sing difiiculties  on  the  plainest  points,  in  refining  and 
explaining  away  every  topic  they  discussed  into  per- 
plexity and  confusion,  and  leaving  the  mind  more  dis- 
satisfied and  uninformed  at  the  conclusion  than  it  was 
at  the  beginning  of  the  debate.  This  the}'  imagined, 
lik«  many  other  philosophers  in  our  own  times,  to  be 
the  very  perfection  of  human  wisdom ;  they  thought  it 
worthy  of  the  gods  themselves ;  and  that  of  course, 
whoever  came  commissioned  from  Heaven  to  teach  re- 
ligion to  mankind,  would  teach  it  in  all  the  forms  of 
the  schools,  v/ith  the  subtlety  of  a  sophist,  and  the  el- 
oquence of  a  rhetorician.  It  is  easy  to  conceive,  then, 
how  exceedingly  they  must  be  disappointed,  ^\'hen  a 
new  religion  was  proposed  to  them,  consisting  chiefly 
of  a  few  plain  facts,  and  practical  precepts,  calculated, 
not  to  amuse  the  fancy,  but  to  reform  the  heart ;  deliv- 
ered without  method  or  ornament,  by  a  set  of  artless 
unlearned  men,  who  only  related  vvhat  they  had  seen 
and  heard,  and  proved  the  truth  of  what  they  said,  not 


SERMON  X.  123 

■by  fine-spun  arf^iiments,  or  florid  declamations,  but  in 
a  plain  unfashionable  kind  of  way,  by  sacrificing  all 
that  was  dear  to  them,  and  laying  down  their  lives  in 
testimony  to  their  doctrines.  As  far,  indeed,  as  those 
doctrines  were  new,  they  would  be  well  received.  For 
the  Athenians,  as  we  learn  from  the  highest  authority, 
*'  spent  their  time  in  nothing  else,  but  either  to  tell  or 
''  to  hear  some  new  thine;*."  When  therefore  St. 
Paul  came  to  Athens,  and  preached  to  that  celebrated 
school  of  philosophy  "  Jesus  and  the  resurrection," 
they  were  extremely  ready  to  give  him  the  hearing,  and 
brought  him  to  the  Areopagus,  saying,  '*  May  we 
"  knov,- what  this  new  doctrine  whereof  thou  speakest 
■*'  is  ?  for  thou  bringest  certain  strange  things  to  our 
"  earsf."  But  when  they  heard  what  these  strange 
things  were,   belief  in  one  supreme  author  and 

GOVERNOR  OF  THE  WORLD,  REPENTANCE,  AMEND- 
MENT OF  LIFE,  CHRIST  CRUCIFIED  AND  RAISED 
FROM     THE     DEAD,    A     GENERAL     RESURRECTION,    A 

ruTURE  JUDGMENT,  f Strange  things  indeed  to  the 
ears  of  an  Athenian)  some  "  mocked  him,"  laughed 
at  the  seeming  incredibility  of  what  he  told  them  ;  oth- 
ers said,  "  We  will  hear  thee  again  of  this  matter| ;" 
not  probably  with  any  view  of  enquiring  into  the  evi- 
dence of  facts  (the  very  first  and  principal  enquiry  that 
was  necessary  to  be  made)  but  of  entering  into  long 
and  learned  disquisitions  on  the  nature  and  the  fitness 
of  the  truths  in  which  they  were  instructed.  They  ex- 
pected to  have  all  the  difficulties  relating  to  Jesus  and 
THE  RESURRECTION,  clcarcd  up  to  them  in  the 
most  pleasing  and  satisfactory  manner,  to  have  all  the 
reasons  on  which  God  acted,  laid  open  before  them, 
and  all  his  proceedings  with  mankind  justified  on  the 
principles  of  human  wisdom.  Till  this  were  done  the 
doctrine  ofcHRisT  crucified  ^vould  always  appear 
*'  foolishness  to  the  Greeks."  The  pride  of  philoso- 
j)hy,  aird  the  self-sufficiency  of  learning,  would  never 
submit  to  believe  that  a  man  who  suffered  like  a  coni- 

•  Acts  xvii.  21.  +  lb.  xvii.  19,  20. 

\  Acts  xvii.  32. 


124  SERMON  X. 

mon  malefactor,  could  be  a  teacher  sent  from  God ; 
that  the  death  of  so  excellent  and  innocent  a  person 
could  be  of  any  benefit  to  mankind  ;  that  God  would 
make  use  of  means  to  accomplish  his  ends,  so  totally 
different  from  those  which  a  Greek  philosopher  would 
have  fixed  on  ;  and  that  no  better  and  more  credible 
method  'of  instructing  and  saving  the  world  could  have 
occurred  to  Infinite  Wisdom.  The  seeming  absur- 
dity of  ail  this  would  shock  the  Pagan,  no  less  dian  the 
ignominy  of  it  did  the  sons  of  Abraham.  Show  us 
the  meaning  and  propriety  of  this  plan,  said  the  Greek  : 
show  us  the  dignity  and  splendor  of  it,  said  the  Jew  : 
prove  to  us,  said  the  one,  the  consistency  of  these 
doctrines  with  the  magnificent  descriptions  of  the  Mes- 
siah, by  the  prophets  ;  reconcile  it,  said  the  other,  to 
the  principles  of  reason  and  common  sense. 

And  in  what  manner  now  does  St.  Paul  treat  these 
objections  to  the  doctrine  of  the  cross  ?  Does  he  go 
about  to  accommodate  and  bring  it  down  to  the  temper 
of  his  opponents  ?  Does  he  endeavor  to   palliate  auj.1 
soften,  to  conceal  or  pass  slightly  over,  to  explain  away 
or   apologize   for,     this    ofiensive   article  ?  No    such 
matter.     Notwithstanding  these  well  known  prejudices 
against  a  crucified  Redeemer,  we  find   him  constantly 
and  boldly,  and  in  the  m.ost  express  terms,  asserting 
that  the  Saviour  whom  he  preached,  whose  disciple  he 
was,  and  on  whom  he  wished  all  mankind  to  believe, 
was  put  to  death  upon  the  cross,  and  gave  himself  a 
sacrifice    for  the  sins  of  the  whole   woild.     He  well 
knew  how  shocking  thisMvould  sound  to  some,   and 
how  absurd  to  others  ;  but  he  persisted  in  his  course  ; 
he  felt  the  truth  and  importance  of  the  fact ;  and  regard- 
less of  consequences,  he  declared  it  every  where  aloud 
and  left  it  to  work  its  own  way.     "  I  am  not  ashamed," 
says  he,  "  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ ;   for  it  is  the  power 
"  of  God  unto  salvation,  to  every  one  that  believelh, 
"  to  the  Jew  first,    and  also  to  the  Greek*."     "  God 
"  forbid  that  I  should  glory,"  says  he,  in  another  place, 
'^  save  ill  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Chirst,  by  whorn 

*  Rom.  i.  16. 


SERMON  X.  125 

''  the  world  is  criicifiedunto  me,  and  I  unto  the  world*." 
And  it  is  evidently  in  the  same  strain  of  triumph 
^nd  exultation,  that  he  speaks  of  tliis  doetrinc  in  the 
text.  "  The  Jews  require  a  sign,  and  the  Greeks  seek 
"  after  wisdom  ;  but  we  "  (regardless  of  both)  "  preach 
*'  Christ  crucified,  to  the  Jews  a  stumbling-block,  and 
*'  to  the  Greeks  foolishness  ;  but  unto  them  which  are 
"  called,  both  Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ  the  power  of 
"  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God.'" 

The  inferences  I  mean  to  draw  from  the  preceding 
observations,  are  these  two  that  fol'ow  : 

I.  The  first  is,  diat  the  friends  of  Revelation  have 
no  need  to  be  disturbed  or  alarmed  at  a  circumstance 
which  has  been  sometimes  dwelt  upon  with  exi:>res- 
sions  of  surprize  and  concern  ;  namely,  that  all  those 
virtuous  and  learned  philosophers,  who  lived  in  the 
first  ages  of  the  Gospel,  and  *' adorned  the  times  in 
which  they  flourished,  such  as  Seneca,  the  elder  and 
tiie  younger  Pliny,  Tacitus,  Plutarch,  Galen,  Epictetus 
and  Marcus  Antonius,  either  overlooked  or  rejected 
the  evidences  of  the  Gospel ;  and  that  their  language  or 
their  silence  equally  discovered  their  contempt  for  the 
Christians,  who  had  in  their  time  diuuscd  themselves 
over  the  Roman  Empire  f ." 

The  simple  fact,  that  these  eminent  men  did  not  em- 
brace Christianity,  is  admitted  ;  and  concerned^  undoubt- 
edly, every  compassionate  mind  must  be  at  so  unhappy 
an  instance  of  perseverance  in  error  ;  but  whoever  re- 
flects on  what  has  been  said  above,  \\\\\  not  be  much 
surprized^  that  Christ  crucified  should  be  fool- 
ishness to  the  Roman  sage  as  well  as  to  the  Greek. 
That  same  i)hilosophy  which,  we  are  told,  "  had  puri- 
fied their  minds  from  the  prejudices  of  superstition," 
had  substituted  in  their  room  certain  other  prejudices, 
that  would  eflectually  prevent  them  from  embracing  the 
Gospel,  if  ever  tliey  condescended  to  bestow  a  single 
thought  upon  it,  or  to  make  the  least  enquiry  into  it  ; 


•  Gal.   vi.    14. 
f  See  the  History  of  the  Dcdine  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  vol. 
p.  51G. 


126  SERMON  X. 

which  is  far  from  being  certain.  Full  of  system  and 
of  science,  of  the  all-sufficiency  of  reason,  the  dignity 
of  human  nature,  and  the  absohite  perfection  of  Stoi- 
cal wisdom  and  virtue,  they  must  needs  regard  with 
supercilious  contempt  an  unsystematical  and  unscienti- 
fical  religion,  first  promulged  in  an  unpolished  and  un- 
lettered corner  of  the  world,  by  the  son  of  a  carpenter, 
\A'ho  never  studied  at  Athens  or  at  Rome  :  preached 
afterwards  by  illiterate  fishermen  and  mechanics,  and 
received  with  eagerness  by  the  illiterate  populace. 
They  would  never  endure  a  religion  that  rejected  the  aid 
of  eloquence  and  learning,  in  the  pursuit  of  which  they 
had  spent  their  lives  ;  a  religion  that  laid  open  the  weak- 
ness and  depravity  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  insuffi- 
ciency of  our  own  powers,  either  to  lead  us  to  a  just 
knowledge  of  our  duty,  or  support  us  in  the  due  per- 
formance of  it,  without  supernatural  aid ;  v.  hich  incul- 
cated the  necessity  of  a  mediator,  a  redeemer,  a  sancti- 
fier,  and  required  the  'uery  unphilosophical  virtues  of 
meekness,  humility,  contrition,  self-abasement,  self- de- 
nial, renovation  of  heart  and  reformation  of  life  ;  which 
taught  the  doctrines  of  a  resurrection  from  the  grave, 
and  an  eternal  existence  in  another  world,  doctrines  that 
appeared  to  them  not  only  perfectly  ridiculous,  but  even 
impossible^;  which  "  chose  the  foolish  things  of  the 
"  world  to  confound  the  wi^^,"  (a  title  peculiarly  arro- 
gated by  the  Stoics)  "  and  the  weak  things  of  the  world 
"  to  confound  the  things  that  are  mighty  f  ;  casting 
*'  down  imaginations,  and  every  high  thing  that  exal- 
*'  teth  itself  against  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  bring- 
"  inginto  captivity  every  thought  to  the  obedience  of 
''  Christ  |.."  These  wers  doctrines  to  Vvhich  not  even 
a  Stoical  slaiie^  much  less  a  Stoical  Emperor ^  could 
ever  submit  to  listen  with  any  degree  of  patience. 
Where  then  can  be  the  wonder,  that,  on  minds  labor- 
ing under  such  strong  prepossessions  as  these,  neither 
the  internal  excellence,  nor  the  external  proofs,  of  the 
Christian  Revelation,  could  ever  make  the  smallest 
impression  ? 

*  Acts  xvii.  32.      Plin.  Nat.  Hist.  ii.  7-     f  1  Cor.  i.  2"      %  2  Co!>  x.  5. 


SERMON  X.  \21 

il.  The  next   inference  I  would  offer  to  your  con- 
skleration  is,  tiiat  althouf.';h  the  doctrine  of  (Christ  crii- 
c'lficd  is  one  of  those  -which   ;ire  the  most  offensive  to 
the  ]:)hiIosoj:)hers  and  dispulers  of  this  world,  j'et  wc 
should  not  be  in  the  least  dismayed  by  their  opposition 
to  it ;   nor  remit  any  thinj^  of  our  diligence  and  earnest- 
ness in  asserting;  tlie  truth,  and  insisting  on  the  im- 
portance of  this  fundamental  article  of  our  faith.     We 
have  seen  that  at  the  very  iirst  publication  of  the  Gos- 
pel, thb  doctrine  gave  the  utmost  scandal  to  the  pride 
of  the  Jew,  and  the  wisdom  of  the  Greek.     We  have 
seen  too  what  little  regard  was  paid  to  them  by  the 
great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles.     The  same  prejudices  do 
in  some  measure   still   subsist ;  and  deserve  to   meet 
with  the  same  treatment.     There  are  Jews  and  Greeks 
still  to  be  found  in  every  Christian  country.     Utibeliei)- 
ers,  I  mean,  who  in  their  ^^•ay  of  thinking  and  reason- 
ing on  the  subject  of  Revelation  resemble  both  ;  who 
are,  like  the  former,  shocked  at  the  seeming   ignomi- . 
ny  of  the  cross,  and,  like  the  latter,  disgusted  with 
the  absurdity  of  supposing,  that  the  sufferings  and  the 
death  of  an   unoffending  individual,    and  of  one  too 
that  pretended  to  be  nothing  less  than  the  Son  of  God, 
could  in  any  way  contribute  to  the  salvation  of  a  guilty 
world.     It  concerns  not  us  to  satisfy  these  fastidious 
reasoners.     The  only  proi:)er  ansv.er  to  them  is,  that 
our  faith  "does  not  stand    (and  was  YlOX.  designed  lo 
*'  stand)  in  the  wisdom  of  men,  but  in   the  power  of 
"  God*."     All  that -lyr  have  to  do,    is  to  content  our- 
selves with  flicts,  and  to  receive  with  thankfulness  the 
doctrine  of  Rtdemption,  as  we  find  it  delivered  in  the 
plain,  and  express,  and  cmphatical  words   of  Scrip- 
ture.    We  may  safely  trust  oursehes  in  the  hands  of 
God,  and  rely  on  his  \visdom  for  the  best  methods  of 
redeeming  us.     His  dealings  with  mankind  are  truly 
great  and  ivisc,  but  he  does   not  conduct   himself  on 
the  i^rinciples  of  vjorhUy  grandeur,  or  ivorldly  wisdom/ 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  plainly  his  intention,  in  this  and 
a  thousand  other  instances,   to  humble,  and  mortify, 

•  1  Cor.  ii.  5. 


128  SERMON  X. 

and  confound  them  both.  We  have,  therefore,  no 
reason  to  be  afraid  of  either,  "  for  the  foolishness  cf 
*'  God  is  wiser  than  men,  and  the  weakness  of  God  is 
*'  stronger  than  men*." 

Artful  and  ingenious  cavillers  will  attempt  to  lead  us 
into  long  disquisitions  and  subde   speculations  on  the 
subject.     They  will  start  innumerable  difficulties,  pro- 
pose ensnaring  questions,  and  urge  us  with  a  variety 
of  seeming  absurdities.     But,  unmoved  by  all   their 
artifices,  let  us  hold  fast  the  profession  of  our  faith, 
without  wavering,  and  without  philosophizing.     Unless 
w^e  are  admitted  into  the  counsels  of  God,  it  is  impos- 
sible for  us  to  comprehend  all  the  reasons  which  indu- 
ced him  to  prefer  that  particular  method  of  redeeming 
us  which  he  has  chosen.     But  yet  what  we  may  un- 
derstand of  it  is  sufficient  to  convince  us,  that  it  is  ad- 
mirably well  calculated  for  the  purposes  v.hich  it  seems 
designed  to  answer  ;  and  that  although  the  doctrine  of 
the  cross  is  "to  them  that  perish,  foolishness,"   "  yet 
"  to  them  that  are  called,"  that  is,  to  all  who  are  sin- 
cerely disposed  to  embrace  the  ofTers  of  divine  mercy 
made  to  them  in  the  Gospel,  it  is,  as  the  text  affirms  it 
to  be,    "  Christ    the  power   of   god,    and   the 
"wisdom  of   god."     To  enter  into  the  proof  of  this 
at  large  would  require  a  volume.     But  the  slightest 
and  most  superficial  view  of  the  subject  v.ill  be  suffi- 
cient to  show,  what  great,  and  important,  and  seem- 
ingly opposite   ends  were   answered  by  the  death  of 
Christ  upon  the  cross. 

By  this  extraordinary  event,  the  power  of  death 
itself,  and  the  dominion  of  Satan,  "  the  prince  of  this 
^vorld,"  were,  as  the  Scriptures  inform  us,  at  once 
destroyedf.  It  gave  occasion  to  that  most  astonish- 
ing miracle,  the  resurrection  of  our  Lord  from  the 
dead.  It  was  a  seal  and  confirmation  of  the  new 
covenant  of  mercy  between  God  and  man,  as  covenants 
used  ancientl}'  to  be  confirmed  by  sacrifices.  It  was 
a  completion  of  the  ancient  prophecies  concerning  our 
Saviour,  and  reconciled  that    apparent    contradiction 

*  1  Cor.  r.  25.  t  2  Tim.  i.  10.     Hcb.  ii.  14. 


SERMON  X.  129 

between  the  conscription  of  his  temporal  sufFerings  and 
his  spiritual  glories,  which  so   much   perplexed  and 
confounded  the  Jews.     It  taught  mankind  that  hardest 
of  all  lessons  (a  lesson  which  is,  God  knows,    but  too 
necessary  for  every   human  being     in    his    passage 
through  the  world)  to  bear  the  cruellest   indignities, 
the  heaviest  afflictions,  and  thcacutest  sufferings,    with 
composure,   patience,   meekness,   and  resignation   to 
the   will  of  Heaven.     It   effected,  what  of  all   other 
things  seemed  the  most  difficult,  the   salvation  of  re- 
penting   sinners,  without  either  punishing   them,  or 
weakening  the  authority  of  God's  moral  government  ; 
and,  while  it  afforded  assurance  of  pardon   for   past  of- 
fences, gave  no  encouragement  to   future  transgres- 
sions.    And  what  completes  the   whole  is,   that  this 
(loctrhie  of  the  cross,  which  by  the  proud  reasoners   of 
that  age  was   called  foolishness,  did   notwithstanding 
make  its  way  in  the  world  with  incredible  rapidity, 
and  produced   such  a  reformation  in  the  hearts  and 
lives  of  men,  as  all  the  eloquence  and  subtilty   of  the 
o-reatest  philosophers  could  never  accomplish.     When 
we  reflect  on   these   things,    we   must    surely  allow, 
that  although  there  may  be  many   things  in    the  doc- 
trine of  redemption  to  us  inexplicable,  yet  it  appears 
plainly,  even  from  our   imperfect  conceptions  of  it, 
to  have  been  a  most  eminent  proof  both  of  the  ^visdonl 
and  the  power  of  God. 

The  more  we  examine  into  it,  the  more  we  shall 
be  convinced  of  this  great  truth.  But  as  there  is  now 
no  time  for  any  furdier  enquiries  of  this  nature,  I  shall 
dismiss  the  subject  with  this  one  observation — That 
there  is  so  far  from  being  any  thing  in  the  doctrine  of 
the  cross  that  ought  to  shock  our  understandings,  or 
stagger  our  faith,  that,  on  the  contrary,  it  affords  us  the 
strongest  evidences  of  the  truth  of  our  Saviour's  pre- 
tensions. He  well  knew  that  the  Jews  expected  in  their 
Messiah  a  splendid  victorious  deliverer,  and  that  the 
heathens  loved  to  be  amused  with  philosophical  dis- 
]Hitcs  and  oratorical  harangues.  Had  he  therefore  been 
an  impostor,  he  would  most  certainly  have  accommo- 

R 


130  SERMON  X. 

dated  his  appearance  and  his  doctrines  to  these  expcctav 
tions.  But  by  teaching,  living,  suffering,  and  dying, 
in  direct  contradiction  to  these  deep-rooted  preposses- 
sions, he  plainly  shewed  that  he  depended,  not  on  the 
favor  of  man,  but  on  the  force  of  truth,  and  the  power 
of  God  only,  for  the  success  of  his  mission.  In  the 
same  manner,  after  his  ascension,  when  the  Apostles 
found  that  the  doctrine  of  Christ  crucified  gave  the  ut- 
most offence  to  their  hearers,  was  to  the  "  Jews  a  stum- 
*'  bling- block,  and  to  the  Greeks  foolishness  ;"  had 
they  acted  on  the  principles  of  mere  worldly  policy,  they 
would  quickly  have  changed  their  tone,  would  have 
dissembled,  or  softt^ned,  or  concealed  this  obnoxious 
article.  They  would  have  made  use  of  art  and  manage- 
ment, similar,  perhaps,  to  that  which  the  Jesuits  in 
China  are  said  to  have  adopted.  It  is  a  charge  brought 
against  those  missionaries  by  some  writers,  and  believed 
by  others  of  considerable  authority,  that,  finding  the 
people  of  that  country  exceedingly  scandalized  at  the 
doctrine  of  a  crucified  Redeemer,  they  thought  it  pru- 
dent to  deny  that  Christ  was  ever  crucified.  They  af- 
firmed, that  it  was  nothing  more  than  a  calumny  invent- 
ed by  the  Jews,  to  throw  a  disgrace  on  Christianity. 
And  what  did  they  gain  by  this  ingenious  piece  of  craft? 
Did  they  secure  a  better  reception  for  the  Gospel,  and 
establish  themselves  more  firmly  in  die  good  opinion  of 
mankind  ?  Alas  I  Christianity  no  longer  exists  in  Chi- 
na, and  they  themselves  no  longer  exist  as  a  society. 
Sucli  are  the  effects  of  worldly  policy,  and  worldly  wis- 
dom. And  had  the  Apostles  acted  on  the  same  princi- 
ples, they  would  have  met  with  the  same  success.  But 
they  pursued  the  maxims  of  "  that  wisdom  which  is 
*'  from  above."  Undismayed  by  the  offence  taken  at 
the  doctrine  of  the  cross,  they  continued  to  preach 
Chrisi  crucified.  They  disdained  all  the  little  tempori- 
sing arts  of  accommodation,  all  unworthy  compliances 
with  the  prejudices  of  mankind.  They  loudly  declared 
to  the  Vkhole world  that  they  believed  the  doctrine  of 
the  cross  to  be  a  divine  truth,  and  that  they  thought  it 
their  bounden  duty  to  persist  in  preaching  it,  vvithout 


SERMON  X.  131 

fear,  without  disguise,  and  \Aithout  reserve.  They 
\vcTC  persuaded  that  God  would  some  May  or  other  take 
cai-e  to  prosper  his  own  work,  and  that,  notwidistand- 
ingall  opposition  to  the  contrary,  "  their  labors  should 
"  not  be  in  vain  in  the  Lord."  The  event  showed  that 
their  reasoning  was  just,  and  that  they  judged  right  in 
obeying  God,  rather  than  humoring  the  prejudices  and 
caprices  of  men.  The  successful  and  triumphant  man- 
ner in  w  hich  the  Gospel  made  its  way,  notwithstanding 
it  went  bearing  the  cross  of  its  divine  Author,  and  had 
all  the  power,  and  wealth,  and  eloquence  of  the  world 
to  oppose  it,  was  an  irresistible  proof,  that  it  was  the 
design  of  Providence,-  not  "  by  the  enticing  words  of 
man's  v.isdom,  but  by  demonstration  of  the  Spirit,  and 
of  power,  to  save  them  that  believe  ;  and,  by  what  was 
called  the  foolishness  of  the  cross  ;  to  destroy  the  wisdom 
of  the  wise,  and  bring  to  nothing  the  understanding  of 
the  prudent^"." 

*  1  Cor.  ii.  4.  and  i.  19. 


SERMON  XL 


Jeremiah  xviii.     Partof  the  11th  Verse, 

37ms  saiih  the  Lord  ;  beheld  I  frame  evil  against  you.  Return  y» 
noiv  ei-'ery  one  from  his  evil  luay,  and  make  your  ways  and  your 
doings  good. 

WE  are  now  once  more  assembled  together,  to 
humble  ourselves  before  Almighty  God*  :  and, 
since  we  first  met  here  for  that  purpose,  a  most  awful 
and  alarming  change  has  taken  place  in  the  situation  of 
our  affairs.  A  few  successes  in  the  beginning  have 
been  followed  by  a  series  of  misfortunes.  Our  dangers 
and  distresses  have  multiplied  on  every  side.  All  our 
efforts  to  extricate  ourselves  from  the  difficulties  with 
which  we  are  surrounded,  have  proved  ineffectual.  And 
the  prospect  before  us  is  upon  the  whole  sufficiently 
dark  and  uncomfortable. 

Let  us  turn  our  eyes  from  it  to  another  object ;  to 
ourselves  I  mean,  to  our  own  conduct.  Will  that  af- 
ford us  any  consolation  ?  "  When  the  judgments  of 
*'  the  Lord  are  in  the  earth,-'  we  are  told  that  "  the 
*'  inhabitants  of  the  world  will  learn  righteousnessf." 
Have  those  judgments  which  now  press  so  heavy  upon 
us,  taught  us  this  most  useful  lesson  ?  In  proportion  as 
our  calamities  have  multiplied,  has  the  warmth  of  our 
piety  encreased,  and  our  sins  and  our  follies  melted 
away  before  it  ?  Twice  already  have  we,  in  this  place, 
and  on  this  very  occasion,  addressed  ourselves  to  the 
Throne  of  Grace ;  have,  with  every  appearance  of  sor- 

*  On  the  general  fast  in  1779,  \  Isaiah  xxvi.  9. 


SERMON  XI.  133 

row  cind  contrition,  confessed  our  sins,  and  acknow- 
ledged that  they  have  most  deservedly  brought  down 
upon  us  the  heaviest  marks  of  God's  displeasure.  We 
have  entreated  pardon,  we  have  besought  compassion, 
we  have  implored  assistance  and  protection  ;  and  in  re- 
turn have,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  vowed  repent- 
ance and  reformation.  Have  that  repentance  and  refor- 
mation followed  ?  Has  one  single  article  of  luxury  been 
retrenched  (retrenched,  I  mean,  from  principle)  one  fa- 
vorite vice  renounced,  one  place  of  amusement,  one 
school  of  debauchery  or  of  gaming,  shut  up  ?  Do  we 
keep  a  stricter  guard  upon  all  our  irregular  appetites  and 
desires,  and  restrain  them  within  the  bounds  of  tempe- 
rance, decency,  and  duty  ?  Are  the  obligations  of  the 
nuptial  vov/  more  faithfully  observed,  and  fewer  appli- 
cations made  to  the  legislature  for  the  dissolution  of  that 
sacred  bond  ?  Is  there  a  more  plain  and  marked  differ- 
ence in  our  behavior  towards  the  virtuous  and  the  pro- 
fligate ;  and  have  we  set  ourselves  with  greater  earnest- 
ness to  repress  the  bold  effrontery  of  vice,  by  treating 
it,  wherever  it  is  found,  with  the  indignation  and  con- 
tempt which  it  deserves  ?  Are  we  become  in  any  de- 
gree more  religious,  more  devout,  more  disengaged 
from  this  world,  more  intent  upon  the  next'?  Are  our 
hearts  touched  with  a  livelier  apprehension  of  heavenly 
things,  with  \varmer  sentiments  of  love  and  reverence 
for  our  Maker  ;  and  do  we  demonstrate  the  sincerity  of 
that  love,  by  a  more  exact  obedience  to  his  commands, 
and  a  more  serious  regard  to  that  sacred  day,  which  is 
peculiarly  dedicated  to  his  service  ?  Happy  would  it 
be  for  every  one  of  us,  could  these  questions  be  answer- 
ed truly  in  the  affirmative.  But  if  they  cannot,  for 
what  purpose  have  we  again  resorted  to  this  solemnity  ? 
Do  we  think  that  the  abstinence,  the  sorrow,  or  the 
supplications  of  a  day^  will  avail  us  ?  In  a  country  so 
enlightened  as  this  is,  it  is  impossible  that  any  one  can 
deceive  himself  with  such  imaginations  as  these.  If  we 
come  here  to  say  a  form  of  prayer  for  mere  form's  sake  ; 
if  our  devotion  is  put  on  for  the  occasion  ;  and  put  off 
the  moment  we  leave  this  place  ;  if  we  are  serious  for 


134  SERMON  XT. 

a  few  hours  once  in  a  year,  and  as  dissipated  as  ever  all 
the  rest  of  our  lives  ;  such  annral  slion's  cf  piety,  such 
periodical  fits  of  devotion,  instead  of  being  a  humilia- 
tion before  God,  are  a  mocker}^  and  insult  upon  him  ; 
and  our  very  prayers  will  be  among  the  sins  for  \\  hicli 
we  ought  to  beg  forgiveness.  The  prayers  to  which  he 
listens,  are  those  only  that  spring  from  a  broken  and  a,j 
contrite  heart :  the  sorrow  that  he  accepts,  is  that  only 
which  worketh  repentance:  the  abstinence  which  he 
requires,  is  abstinence  from  sin.  Unless  we  renounce 
each  of  us  our  own  peculiar  wickedness,  our  profes- 
sions here  do  nothing  :  they  do  worse  than  nothing ; 
they  add  hypocrisy  to  all  our  other  sins.  "  This  peo- 
^'  pie,"  says  God  on  a  similar  occasion,  "draw  near 
"  to  me  with  their  mouth,  and  with  their  lips  do  honor 
"  me,  but  have  removed  their  heart  far  from  me  :  and 
*'  their  fear  towards  me  is  taught  by  the  precept  of  men. 
*'  Their  goodness  is  as  a  morning  cloud,  and  as  the 
"  early  dew  itgocth  away.  When  they  fast,  I  will  not 
*'  hear  their  cry,  and  when  they  offer  an  oblation,  I  will 
"  not  accept  them*^.  Because  I  have  called,  and  ye 
*'  refused,  I  have  stretched  out  my  hand,  and  no  man 
"  regarded  ;  but  ye  have  set  at  nought  my  counsel,  and 
*'  would  none  of  my  reproof;  I  also  will  laugh  at  your 
*'  calamity,  I  will  mock  when  your  fear  cometh.  When 
'^'  your  fear  cometh  as  a  desolation,  and  your  destruc- 
"  tion  cometh  as  a  whirlwind,  when  distress  and  an- 
"  guish  cometh  upon  you  ;  then  shall  they  call  upon 
^'  me,  but  I  will  not  answer,  they  shall  seek  me  early, 
*'  but  they  shall  not  find  me  ;  for  that  they  hated  know- 
*'  ledge,  and  did  notchuse  the  fear  of  the  Lord."f 

All  this,  I  am  aware,  when  applied  to  ourselves,  Vvill 
be  considered  by  many  as  nothing  more  than  the  usual 
language  of  the  pulpit ;  as  a  little  pious  declamation, 
necessary  to  be  used  on  such  occasions  as  this,  but 
meaning  nothing,  and  calculated  only  to  strike  super- 
stitious minds,  which  see  divine  judgments  in  every 
common  occurrence  of  life. 

*  Isa.  xxix.  13.  Hos.  vi.  41,  Jer.  xiv.  12.     t  ^i-ov.  i.  24,  25,  26,  27,  28,  29- 


SERMON  Xr.  135 

This  is  neither  the  time  nor  the  place  for  entering  in- 
to any  controversy  on  such  subjects.  We  are  come 
here,  I  apprelienci,  not  to  dispute  God's  moral  p^ov- 
ernment  of  the  world,  but  to  acknowledge  it.  They 
who  do  not  acknowledge  it,  have  no  concern  here. 
Yet  even  these,  when  they  happen  to  reflect  a  little  se- 
riously on  w  liat  we  \vcre  a  very  few  years  ago,  and 
w  hat  we  now  are ;  ^vhen  they  consider  the  means  by 
whicli  this  sudden  and  surprising  revolution  has  been 
brought  about ;  when  they  look  back  to  the  origin, 
and  trace  the  whole  progress, .  of  that  unhappy  contest, 
in  which  we  have  been  so  long  engaged,  find  them- 
selves obliged  to  own,  that  there  is  something  very  ex- 
traordinary in  it  ;  that  it  has  in  many  instances  gone 
far  out  of  the  usual  track  of  human  affairs  ; "  that  the 
causes  generally  assigned,  are  totally  inadequate  to  the 
effects  produced  ;  and  that  it  is  altogether  one  of  the 
most  amazing  scenes  that  \vas  ever  presented  to  the  ob- 
servation of  mankind.  They  allov/  it  is  impossible  to 
account  in  any  common  way,  for  every  thing  that  has 
happened  in  the  various  stages  of  it ;  and  talk  much 
of  accident,  ill-fortune,  and  a  certain  strange  fatility 
(as  they  call  it)  which  seems  to  attend  even  our  best- 
concerted  measures.  Let  those  who  can,  digest  such 
reasoning  as  this,  and  disguise  their  ignorance  of  the 
truth,  or  their  unwillingness  to  own  it,  under  the  shel- 
ter of  unmeanino;  names,  and  imacrinarv  beines  of  their 
own  creation.  But  let  us,  \\ho  are,  I  trust,  a  little 
better  informed,  confess,  what  it  is  in  vain  to  deny, 
that  the  hand  of  God  is  upon  us ;  that  \ve  wanted  hum- 
bling, and  ha\e  been  most  severely  humbled.  The 
successes  of  the  last  war  *  were  too  great  for  our  feeble 
virtue  to  bear.  The  immense  wealth  that  they  poured 
in  upon  us  from  every  qu;,irter  of  the  globe,  bore  down 
before  it  every  barrier  of  morality  and  religion,  and 
produced  a  scene  of  wanton  extravagance  and  wild  ex- 
cess, which  called  loudly  for  some  signal  check  ;  and 
that  check  it  has  now  received.  It  would  be  the  ex- 
tremity of  blindness  not  to  see,  in  those  calamities  tliat 

♦  That  which  was  concluded  by  the  peace  of  1763. 


136  SERMON  XI. 

have  befallen  us,  the  workings  of  that  over- ruling 
power,  "  which  chiises  the  foolish  things  of  the  Vvorld 
"  to  confound  the  wise,  and  the  weak  things  of  the 
*'  world  to  confound  the  things  that  are  mighty ;  that 
*'  no  flesh  should  glory  in  his  presence*."  It  is  plain- 
ly the  voice  of  God  that  speaks  to  us,  in  the  sublime 
and  tremendous  language  of  Scripture  ;  "  Hear  this, 
"  thou  that  art  full  of  stirs,  a  tumultuous  city,  a  joyous 
"  city;  thou  that  art  given  to  pleasures,  that  dwellest 
*'  carelessly,  and  sayest  in  thine  heart,  lam,  and  none 
*'  else  beside  me  ;  Though  thou  exalt  thyself  as  the 
*'  eagle,  and  though  thou  set  thy  nest  among  the  stars, 
*'  thence  will  I  bring  thee  down,  saith  the  Lprd.  Cau 
*'  thy  heart  endure,  or  can  thy  hands  be  strojig,  in  the 
"days  that  I  shall  deal  with  thee?  I  the  Lord  have 
"  spoken  it,  and  will  do  it.  I  will  mingle  a  ^perverse 
"  SPIRIT  in  the  midst  of  thee,  I  will    cause    thee 

"   TO   ERR   IN   every   WORKf." 

Whether  we  have  not  thus  erred,  I  leave  you  to 
judge  ;  and  if  our  errors  are  here  referred  to  their 
right  source,  we  know  the  remedy.  It  is,  God  be 
thanked,  in  our  own  hands  :  it  is  what  this  day's  so- 
lemnity was  meant  to  remind  us  of ;  it  is  what  the  test 
itself  very  distinctly  points  out  to  us.  "Return  ye 
"  now  every  one  from  his  evil  way,  and  make  your 
"  ways  and  your  doings  good."  Listen  then,  I  be- 
seech you,  to  this  most  salutary  advice,  and  "  humble 
"  yourselves  under  the  mighty  hand  of  God,  that  he 
"  may  exalt  you  in  due  timei." 

But  is  any  one  then  (we  shall  be  asked)  so  weak  as 
to  imagine,  that  immediate  reformation  will  be  follow- 
ed by  an  immediate  declaration  of  Heaven  in  our  favor, 
and  that  the  moment  we  become  religious  and  virtu- 
ous, we  shall  be  secured  from  danger,  and  rewarded 
with  success  ?  The  best,  indeed  the  only  proper 
answer  to  such  a  question  as  this,  is — make  the  tri- 
al.     It  may  be  made  without   either    expense    or 

*  1  Cor.  i.  27,  29. 

f  Isaiah  xxii.  2  ;  xlvii.  8.     Obad.  4.     Ezek.  xxii.  14.     Isakih  xix.  14. 

t  1  Pet.  V.  G. 


SERMON  XI.  137 

iiazard  ;  and  surely,  in  our  present  situation,  every 
thing  that  afibrds  the  least  shadow  of  relief,  deserves 
our  notice.  Expedient  after  expedient  has  been  tried, 
and  failed.  Above  all  things,  we  have  tried  what 
iRRELiGioN  will  do  for  US  ;  and  we  have  no  reason,  I 
think,  to  be  proud  of  the  experiment.  It  is  then  high 
time,  surely,  to  discard  a  physician  that  has  done  us 
so  little  good,  to  make  a  change  in  our  medicines,  and 
put  ourselves  under  a  diUb-rent  regimen.  And  what 
other  regimen  can  we  adopt  but  that  \vhich  is  recom- 
mended to  us  by  the  great  physician  of  our  souls  ?  It 
is  RELIGION,  "pure  undefiled  religion,"  that  will 
strike  at  the  root  of  our  disorder,  and  nothing  else  can. 
To  see  its  influence  suddenly  and  universally  restored, 
is  more,  perhaps,  than  we  can  expect.  As  the  depra- 
vation of  our  manners,  and  the  decay  of  vital  piety 
amongst  us,  has  been  a  gradual  work,  the  recovery  of 
them  must  be  so  too.  But  let  every  one  begin  to  do 
something  towards  it  ;  let  all  parties  and  denomina- 
tions of  men,  instead  of  inveighing  against  each  other, 
without  mercy  and  without  end,  reform  themselves ; 
and  the  restitution  of  reli.sjious  sentiment,  and  virtuous 
practice  M'ill  not  be  so  difHcult  an  achievement  as  is 
imagined.  It  behoves  us,  in  the  first  place,  the  minis- 
ters of  the  Gospel,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  to 
redouble  our  attention  to  every  branch  of  our  sacred 
functions,  and  to  take  the  lead,  as  we  arc  bound  to  do, 
in  the  great  work  of  reformation.  As  an  indespensa- 
ble  requisite  towards  it,  let  us  be  careful  to  impress 
deeply  both  upon  our  own  minds  and  those  of  our 
hearers,  the  absolute  necessity  of  faidi  in  Christ,  cf 
Icrvent  love  towards  God,  of  internal  sanclincation  by 
his  Spirit ;  and  on  this  foundation,  the  only  solid  and 
substantial  one  that  can  be  laid,  let  us  erect  the  super- 
structure of  a  holy,  religious,  Christian  life.  Let 
those  uho  direct  our  public  measures  remeniber,  that 
their  success  must,  in  a  great  degree,  depend  on  the 
purity  and  integrity,  not  only  of  their  political,  but  of 
their  moral  and  religious  conduct ;  and  th?.t  "  except 

S 


138  SERMON   Xr. 

"  the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the  watchman  waketh  but 
"  in  vain*."      If  therefore  they  leave  the  Supreme 
Governor  of  the  world  out  of  their  counsels,  and  form 
plans  independent  of  him  and  his  providence,  there  is 
but  too  much  reason  to  fear,  that  all  the  efforts  of  hu- 
man wisdom  and  power,  the  most  vigorous  exertions 
of  national  strength,  the  best  appointed  fleets  and  ar- 
mies, will  avail  them  nothing;  for  "  the  battle  is  not 
"  their's,  but  God'sf."     Let  their  opponents,  on  the 
other  hand,  be  no  less  attentive  to  the  regulation  of 
their  own  hearts,  than  to  the  conduct  of  those  who  gov- 
ern ;  and   contend   with  them  not  merely  for  the  vain 
distinctions  of  rank,  or  wealth,  or  power,  but  for  that 
noblest  object  of  human  ambition,  pre-eminence  in 
virtue.'     To  all  this,  let  those  who  are  distinguished 
by  their  birth  and  fortune,  add  the  weight,  the  almost 
irresistible  weight,    of  their  example ;    and  manifest 
their  public  spirit  in  the  most  useful  way  they  can,  by 
letting  the  light  of  their  truly  illustrious  conduct  "  shine 
*'  before  men,"  and  by  being  models  of  every  thing 
that  is  great  and  good.     Let  parents,  in  fine,  while  they 
are  so  anxious  to  embellish  the  manners,  and  improve 
the  understandings,  of  their  children,  pay  »  little  more 
attention  than  they  have  hitherto  done,  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  their  hearts.     From  their  infancy  to  their  man- 
hood, let  them  be  brought  up  "  in  the  nurture  and  ad- 
*'  monition  of  the  Lord  j."     Let  those  grand  corrup- 
ters oftheir  unguarded  innocence  and  simplicity,  licen- 
tious NOVELS,   licentious  histories,  and  licentious 
systems  of  PHILOSOPHY,  which  (not  to  mention  those 
of  our  own  growth)  have  constituted  a  large  and  most 
pernicious  branch  of  our  commerce  with  a  neighboring 
kingdom  ;  let  these,  I  say,  be  for  ever  banished  from 
the  hands  of  our  youth,  and  in  their  room,  let  that  long- 
neglected,  and  almost  forgotten  thing,   revealed  re- 
ligion,   make  a  fundamental  part  of  their  education. 
Let  them  not  be  left  (as  is  too  much,  God  knows,  the 
case)  to  pick  it  up  themselves,  as  ^veil  as  they  can,  from 

*  Psalm  cx;cvii.  1.  t  2  Chron.  xx.  ii.  \  Epb.  vi  4. 


SERMON  XL  139 

sasual  information,  or  a  few  superficial  unconnected  in- 
structions ;  but  let  it  be  taught  them  systematically  and 
methodically  ;  let  the  first  rudiments  of  it  be  instilled 
as  early  and  as  carefully  into  their  minds,  as  those  of 
every  other  science  ;  let  its  evidences  and  its  doctrines 
be  gradually  explained  to  them,  in  the  several  semina- 
ries of  learning  through  which  they  successively  pass, 
in  proportion  as  their  judgments  ripen,  and  their  un- 
derstandings unfold  themselves.  Let  them,  in  short, 
be  made  not  only  great  scholars,  and  accomplished  gen- 
tlemen, but,  what  is  of  inlinitely  more  importance,  both 
to  themselves  and  to  the  public,  honest  men,  and  sin- 
cere Christians. 

By  means  such  as  these,  together  with  our  most  ear- 
nest prayers  for  the  assistance  of  Divine  Grace  to  co- 
operate with  our  own  endeavors,  there  is  little  doubt 
but  a  great  and  a  blessed  change  may  in  time  be 
brougiit  about,  in  the  manners  even  of  the  present  ge- 
neration, and  still  more  of  the  rising  one.  And  when 
once  the  sense  of  religion  is  effectually  awakened  in  our 
souls,  we  have  every  reason  in  the  world  to  expect  the 
happiest  consequences  from  it. 

The  declarations  of  Scripture  on  this  head  are  pe- 
remptory and  decisive.  "  At  what  instant,"  (says 
God)  "  I  shall  speak  concerning  a  nation,  and  concern- 
*'  ing  a  kingdom,  to  pluck  up  and  to  pull  down,  and 
*'  to  destroy  it,  if  that  nation,  against  whom  I  have 
"  pronounced,  turn  from  their  evil,  I  will  repent  of  the 
"  evil  which  I  thought  to  do  unto  them*."  But,  be- 
sides the  reviving  hopes  which  these  promises  may 
well  inspire,  there  are  other  very  important  advantages 
that  Vviil  naturally  and  spontaneously  flow  from  a  sincere 
belief  in  the  doctrines,  and  a  general  obedience  to  the 
laws,  of  the  Gospel. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  true  Christianity  will  produce 
TRUE  PATRIOTISM  AND  PUBLIC  SPIRIT.  By  its  Com- 
manding influence  over  the  soul,  "  it  will  keep  under, 
*'  and  bring  into  subjection  f,"  all  those  irregular  pas- 

'  Jer.  win.  /,  *?.  "  |  |  Cor.  i.\,  27. 


140  '      SERMON  XI. 

sions  which  render  men  rapacious,  sordid,  selfish,  and 
corrupt,  indifferent  and  inattentive  to  the  public,  devo- 
ted solely  to  the  pursuit  of  some  favorite  object,  or  the 
gratification  of  some  implacable  resentm.ent,  to  "which 
they  are  at  any  time  ready  to  prostitute  their  conscien- 
ces, and  sacrifice  the  true  interest  of  their  country. 
From  all  these  vile  impediments  to  the  discharge  of  our 
duty,  Christianity  sets  us  free,  and  substitutes  in  their 
room,  the  noblest  and  most  generous  sentiments.  It 
gives  that  dignity  and  elevation  of  soul,  which  is  supe- 
rior to  every  undue  influence,  either  of  popularity  or  of 
power.  It  lays  down,  as  the  foundation  of  all  disinter- 
ested conduct,  that  great  evangelical  virtue,  self-de- 
nial ;  it  teaches  us  to  deny,  to  renounce  ourselves; 
to  throw  entirely  out  of  our  thoughts,  our  own  preju- 
dices, interests,  and  passions ;  and  in  every  public 
question,  to  see  nothing,  to  regard  nothing,  but  the  real 
welfare  of  our  country,  and  that  plain  line  of  duty,  which 
no  honest  man  can  mistake.  To  this  it  adds  unbound- 
ed love  for  all,  but  especially  "  the  brotherhood*  ;" 
that  is,  the  community  of  which  we  are  members.  It 
extends  our  prospect  beyond  the  present  scene  of  things, 
and  sets  before  us  the  recompences  of  a  future  life  ; 
which,  as  they  make  us  richer^  enable  us  to  be  more 
generous,  than  other  men.  They  whose  views  are  vi'hol- 
ly  centered  in  this  world,  will  too  often  prefer  the  emo- 
luments of  it  to  every  other  consideration  ;  but  they 
who  look  towards  an  inheritance  in  another  state  of  ex- 
istence, can  afford  to  give  up  to  the  general  welfare,  a 
few  advantages  in  this. 

II.  When  once  we  have  thoroughly  imbibed  the  true 
spirit  and  tem.per  of  the  Gospel,  it  will  soon  produce 
what  is  essential  to  our  preservation,  unanimity  ;  will 
compose  all  those  unhappy  dissensions  which  have  so 
long  torn  the  state  in  pieces ;  which  have  been  one 
principal  cause  of  our  present  evils  ;  and,'  if  not  timely 
extinguished,  or  at  least  greatly  mitigated,  will  proba- 
bly lead  (as  in  all  great  empires  they  ha^e  universally 

*  !  Pet.  ii.  ir. 


SERMON  XI.  141 

led)  to  final  ruin.  Now  the  source  of  this  dreadful  mis- 
chief lies  where  few  seem  to  suspect,  in  the  want  of 
RELIGIOUS  PRINCIPLE.  Had  Hot  all  sidcs  departed, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  from  those  heavenly  precepts 
of  gentleness,  humility,  meekness,  placability,  brother- 
ly kindness,  moderation,  equity,  and  integrity,  which 
the  Gospel  prescribes,  it  is  utterly  impossible  that  our 
divisions  could  have  arisen  to  their  present  alarming 
height.  But  the  misfortune  is,  we  are  apt  to  think  our- 
selves dispensed  with,  in  matters  of  state,  from  all  those 
rules  of  morality,  which,  in  every  other  case,  we  deem 
it  our  duty  to  observe  ;  and,  what  is  quite  astonishing 
and  unaccountable,  the  very  same  persons,  who  in  pri- 
vate life  are  considerate,  reasonable,  impartial,  good- 
natured,  and  humane,  will,  in  public  affliirs,  be  impetu- 
ous, veliement,  acrimonious,  censorious,  ungenerous, 
and  unjust.  On  what  grounds  they  establish  this  strange 
distinction,  and  why  they  conceive  all  the  obhgations 
of  Religion  to  hold  good  in  the  one  case,  and  entirely 
to  vanish  in  the  other,  is  to  me,  I  own,  utterly  incom- 
prehensible. The  Gospel,  I  am  sure,  knows  nothing 
of  any  such  exceptions  as  these.  It  lays  down  the  same 
rules  of  behavior  for  all  men,  in  all  relations,  and  cir- 
cumstances of  life  ;  and  grants  no  dispensation,  in  any 
one  supposable  instance,  from  the  eternal  and  invariable 
laws  of  evangelical  rectitude.  It  is  Charity,  in  short, 
true  Christian  Charity,  diffusing  itself  through  our 
v.hole  conduct,  public  as  well  as  private,  that  can  alone 
restore  harmony  and  union  to  this  distracted  kingdom. 
Let  her  mild  conciliating  voice  be  once  heard  and  at- 
tended to  by  all  ranks  of  men,  and  she  will  say  to  their 
rufiied  passions,  as  our  Saviour  did  to  the  troubled 
waves,  "  Peace,  be  still  :"  and  the  consequence  will 
be  the  same  :   "  there  will  be  a  great  calm^'^" 

Lastly,  A  consciousness  of  having  discharged  our 
duty,  of  being  at  peace  with  God,  and  of  living  under 
his  gracious  superintendence,  will  give  us  a  spirit,  a 
nuMNEss,  AND  INTREPIDITY  OF  SOUL,  w hich  no- 
thing else  can  inspire. 

*  Mark  iv.  39. 


142  SERMON  XI. 

Valor  indeed,  it  has  been  said,  is  no  Christian  vir- 
tue ;  and  it  is  very  true  ;  for,  considered  simply  in  it- 
self, it  is  no  virtue  at  all.  It  is  a  mere  personal  qual- 
ity, depending  principally  on  constitution  and  natural 
temperament,  but  improved  by  education,  discipline, 
and  habit ;  and  can  be  no  otherwise  moral  or  immoral, 
than  as  it  is  well  or  ill  directed.  But  supposing  all 
other  circumstances  equal,  the  sincere  Christian  ^^'i^ 
have  many  incitements  to  face  danger  with  a  steady 
countenance,  which  the  irreligious  cannot  have.  Un- 
der the  defence  of  the  Most  High,  he  has  less  cause  to 
fear  the  worst,  and  more  reason  to  hope  the  best,  than 
those  that  live  without  God  in  the  world.  "  The  wick- 
*'  ed  therefore  flee  when  no  man  pursueth,  but  the 
**  righteous  are  bold  as  a  lion*."  Even  death  itself 
has  to  the  real  Christian,  no  terrors.  The  only  sling 
it  has,  is  sin,  and  of  that  sting  he  has  disarmed  it. 
Instead  of  being  to  him,  as  it  is  to  the  worldly  man, 
the  extinction  of  his  hopes,  it  is  the  consummation  of 
them,  and  puts  him  in  possession  of  those  heavenly 
treasures  on  which  his  heart  is  fixed.  He  therefor^ 
goes  on  with  cool  undaunted  composure  to  the  dis- 
charge of  his  duty,  M'hatever  difficulties,  whatever  dan- 
gers, may  stand  in  his  way  ;  conscious  that  he  is  act- 
ing under  the  eye  of  an  Almighty  Being,  who  can  both 
protect  and  reward  him;  who  has  commanded  him,  if 
it  be  necessary,  "to  lay  down  his  life  for  his  breth- 
*'  renf  ;"  and  who  will  never  suffer  him  to  be  a  loser 
in  the  end,  even  by  that  last  and  greatest  sacrifice  to  th« 
public  good. 

Such  are  the  effxts,  the  genuine  and  natural  efFccts, 
of  RELIGIOUS  PRINCIPLE  on  the  human  mind.  It 
will  give  us,  as  we  have  seen,  every  tiling  which  our 
present  situation   seems  more  peculiarly  to  require  ; 

PUBLIC  SPIRIT,  UNANIMITY,  AND  UNSHAKEN  FOR- 
TITUDE. Embrace  then,  with  thankfulness,  the  sup- 
port which  Chistianity  offers  you,  and  which  you  have 
hitherto  sought  elsewhere  in  vain.     Amidst  so  many 

*  Proy.  xxviii.  1.  ■\  1  John  iii.  16. 


SERxMON  XL  145 

enemies,  take  care  to  secure,  at  least,  one  friend.  By 
obedience  to  the  Divine  laws,  recommend  yourselves 
to  the  Divine  protection  ;  and  then  remember  those 
most  comfortable  expressions  of  the  Almighty  to  an- 
other people  :  "  How  can  I  give  thee  up,  Ephraim  ? 
*'  my  soul  is  turned  within  me.  I  will  not  execute 
"  the  fierceness  of  my  anger  ;  for  I  am  God,  and  not 
*'  man*."  *'  In  a  little  wrath  I  hid  my  face  from  thee 
"  for  a  moment,  but  with  everlasting  kindness  will  I 
"  have  mercy  on  theef." 

*  lies.  xi.  8,  P.  I.  Is.  Ur.  I 


SERMON  XII. 


Matth.  X.  34. 

Tlunk  not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  on    earth;  I  ca?ne  not  t& 
send  peace,  but  a  sword. 

WE  may,  without  the  smallest  hesitation,  con- 
clude, that  the  words  of  the  text  cannot 
possibly  have  that  signification  which,  at  the  first  view, 
and  as  they  here  stand  single  and  unconnected,  they 
appear  to  have.  It  would  be  the  extremity  of  weak- 
ness to  suppose,  that  he  whose  whole  life  and  doctrine 
breathed  nothing  but  peace  and  gentleness,  and  who 
declared  at  another  time,  in  the  most  positive  terms, 
that  "  he  came  not  to  destroy  men's  lives,  but  to  save 
*'  them  *,"  should  here  mean  to  denounce  war  and 
desolation  to  the  human  species.  And  that,  in  fact, 
this  is  not  the  real  import  of  the  words  before  us,  will 
be  evident  to  any  one  v/ho  considers,  with  the  least 
degree  of  attention,  the  whole  passage  from  which 
they  were  taken,  and  the  occasion  on  m  hich  they  were 
spoken.  It  will  be  evident  that  they  relate  solely  to 
the  Jirst  preachers  of  the  Gospel.,  to  w  horn  our  Lord 
was  then  delivering  their  evangelical  commission  ;  and 
were  intended  to  apprize  them  of  the  calamities  and 
persecutions  to  Avhich  the  execution  of  that  commission 
would  infallibly  expose  them.  "  They  v.'cre  sent  forth 
"  as  sheep  among  wolves  ;  they  were  to  be  delivered 
"  u{)  to  the  councils,  to  be  scourg-ed  in  the  svnajroeues, 
"  to  be  brought  b-cfore  governors   and  kings,  to  be 

*  I.iilie  Jx.  55. 


SERMON  Xir.  145 

*•' hated  of  all  men  for  Christ's  sake  *:"  a  treatment 
so  totally  opposite  to  that  which  their  early  prejudices 
led  diem  to  expect  under  the  Messiah,  the  trince 
OF  PEACE  t,  that  it  was  highly  necessary  to  set  them 
right  in  this  important  point ;  and  to  forew  arn  them  in 
plain  terms,  that  although  the  idtimate  effect  of  Chris- 
tian ty  would  indeed  be  peace  in  its  utmost  extent, 
and  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  yet  that  to  those  who 
\\  ere  charged  with  the  first  promulgation  of  the  Gos- 
pel, it  would  bring  not  peace,  but  a  sword. 

But  whatever  interpretation  may  be  given  to  these 
words,  say  the  adversaries  of  our  faith,  they  are  eventu- 
ally applicable  to  Christianity  in  their  most  obvious 
meaning.  The  Gospel  did  in  fact  send  a  sword^  and  a 
most  destructive  one,  upon  oarth.  It  has  deluged  die 
world  with  blood.  It  has  been  the  parent  of  as  much 
misery  and  devastation,  as  if  it  had  been  purposely  in- 
tended to  harass  and  torment  mankind,  and  has  given 
rise  to  more  dissensions,  wars,  and  massacres,  than 
any  other  single  cause  tliat  can  be  named  :j:. 

This  it  must  be  owned,  is  a  formidable  charge. 
But  formidable  as  it  is,  and  heightened,  as  it  seldom 
fails  to  be,  with  all  the  invidious  colorings  of  false 
rhetoric  and  false  wit,  we  need  not  fear  to  meet  it  in  its 
full  force.  It  will,  I  apprehend,  be  no  difficult  matter 
to  convince  every  dispassionate  enquirer,  that  when  it 
is  examined  more  closely  and  minutely,  when  it  is  di- 
vested of  all  the  adventitious  terrors  with  which  it  has 
been  so  industriously  surrounded,  and  when  all  the 
abatements  and  deductions  are  made,  vvhich  truth  de- 
mands and  candor  must  admit,  it  will  be  reduced  to 
an  objection  of  litde  or  no  importance. 

I.  Whenever  the  cruelties  exercised  by  Christians 
against  unbelievers,  or  against  each  other,  are  men- 

•  M?.M.h.  X.  IG— 22.  t  Isaiah  ix.  6. 
\  This  argument  is  so  great  a  favorite  with  all  our  philosophical  sceptics, 
that  it  is  every  clay  dressed  up  in  some  new  form,  and  repeated  incessantly 
with  an  air  of  peculiar  triumph  and  exultation.  It  i:;  indeed  in  its  veiy  na- 
tiu-e  calculated  to  strike  more  generally,  and  to  make  deeper  impressions, 
than  any  abstract  rcasonint^  ;  and  has,  I  believe,  in  fact,  created  stronger 
prejudice  a;jainst  the  G'jspel,  tlian  all  the  other  cavils  cf  infidelity  put  to. 
gether.     For  these  reasons  it  seciv.ed  to  deserve  particular  consideration, 

T 


14:6  SERMON  XII, 

tioned,  it  is  generally  insinuated  at  the  same  time',- 
that  they  are  not  to  be  paralleled  in  any  other  religious 
persuasion,  and  that  it  was  Christianity  which  first  in- 
troduced the  detestable  practice  of  persecuting  on  ac- 
count of  religion.     But  how  unfair  such  representa- 
tions are,  the  most  superficial  acqaintance  with  history 
is  sufficient  to  convhice  us.     From  the  remotest  ages 
down  to  the  present,  men  of  almost  every  sect  and 
persuasion  have  treated  those  of  contrary  sentiments 
with  no  small  degree  of  bitterness  and  inliumanity.     It 
is  well  known,  that  Jews,  Pagans,  and  Mahometans, 
have  each  in  their  turn  made  use  of  violence  and  coer- 
cion in  matters  of  religion  ;  and  that  the  early    Chris- 
tians suffered  the  severest  persecution  from  the  two  for- 
mer, long  before  they  began  to  inflict  it  on  others. 
This  indeed  is  no  vindication  of  those  Cliristians  that 
had  recourse  to  it ;  nor  is  it  intended  as  such.     No- 
thing ever  can  vindicate  or  justify  them.     But  it  may 
serve  to  show  that  others  ought  to  bear  a  large  share  of 
that  odium  which  is  generally  thrown  exclusively  on 
the  discrples  of  Christ ;  and  that  it  is  not  Christianity, 
but  human  nature,  that  is  chargeable  with  the  guilt  of 
persecution*.     The  truth  is,  religion,  or  the  pretence 
of  religion,  has  in  almost  all  ages  and  all  nations,  been 
one   cause,  among   many  others,  of  those  numberless 
dissensions  and  disputes   which  have  laid  waste  the 
species  :  and  although  it  may  be  matter  of  surprize  to- 
some,  and  of  indignation  to  all,  that  what  was  intended 
for  the  protection  and  solace  of  mankind,   should  be 

*  Even  Pagans  have  persecuted  Pagans  on  the  score  of  religion,  with  the 
fitmost  bitterness  and  rancor.  Besides  the  memorable  instance  of  So- 
crates, and  the  several  holy  or  sacred  luars  among  the  Grecian  States,  which 
had  so7ne  mixture  of  superstitious  zeal  in  them,  we  find  that  in  Egypt  the 
worship  of  difierent  deities  produced  the  nnost  implacable  hatred  and 
most  sanguinary  contests  between  their  respective  votaries  ;  that  in  Persia 
the  diciples  of  every  other  religion  e;vcept  that  of  Zoroaster  were  punished, 
and  almost  exterminated,  with  the  ntiTiost  cruelty  ;  and  that  in  later  times 
the  kings  of  Siam  and  Pegu  contended  for  the  honor  of  possessing  a  certain 
sacred  relique,  (of  a  nature  too  contemptible  to  be  named  here)  with  as 
much  fury  and  obstinacy,  as  if  the  safety  of  their  whole  kingdoms,  and  ev- 
ery thing  valuable  to  them,  had  been  at  stake.  See  Plutarch  in  Solon.  Thti- 
eyd.  I.  i.  yuvenal  Sat.  xv.  Decline  and  Fall  tif  the  Roman  Empire,  vol.  i./>» 
^OB.  and  Mickk's  translation  of  the  LiisiadofCamocr.s,  Introdiict- p.  94.nor«. 


SERMON  XII.  147 

'Converted  to  their  destruction,  yet  it  may  be  accounted 
for  on  the  most  common  principles  of  human  conduct. 
The  attachment  of  men  to  any  particular  object,  will 
always  increase  according  to  the  real  or  supposed  value 
of  that  object ;  and  their  zeal  in  defending  it  from  in- 
jury or  corruption,  will  rise  in  the  same  proportion. 
Hence  religion,  which  has  ever  been  esteemed  the  most 
important  of  all  human  concerns,  has  for  that  very  rea- 
son given  the  keenest  edge  to  human  resentments,  and 
has  wound  up  the  passions  of  men  to  a  degree  of  phrcn- 
zy,  to  which  no  motive  less  weighty  was  capable  of 
raising  them.  And  yet,  at  the  same  time,  if  we  com- 
pare the  dissensions  and  cruelties  occasioned  by  chil 
zealy  with  those  occasioned  b)'  religions  zSal,  we  shall 
find  the  latter  to  bear  a  much  less  proportion  to  the  for- 
mer than  is  generally  imagined,  and  frequently  insiim- 
ated^.  By  far  the  greatest  number  of  wars,  as  well  as 
the  longest,  most  obstinate,  most  extensive,  and  most 
sanguinary  wars  wc  know  of,  have  been  owing  to  causes 
purely  political^  and  those  too  sometimes  of  the  most 
trifling  nature ;  and  if  we  can  allow  men  to  harass 
and  destroy  one  another  for  a  mere  point  of  honor,  or 
a  few  acres  of  land,  why  should  we  think  it  strange  to 
see  them  defending,  with  the  same  heat  and  bitterness, 
what  they  conceive  to  be  the  most  essential  requisite  to 
happiness,  both  here  and  hereafter  ?  If  we  will  but  con- 
sider religion  in  that  single  point  of  view,  which  is  the 
only  one  tliat  has  any  relation  to  this  question,  as  an  ob- 
ject which  men  have  very  ranch  at  heart :  and  ^vill  admit 
ihe  operation  of  the  same  passions  and  prejudices  as  are 
excited  by  any  other  object  that  they  have  at  heart,  we 
shall  no  longer  be  at  a  loss  for  the  source  of  those  mis- 
chiefs that  have  been  ascribed  to  it. 

II.  As  the  nature  of  tlie  human  mind  furnishes  a 
very  obvious  reason  for  religious  bigotry,  and  cruelty 

*  "  Political  Society,  en  a  moderate  calculation,  has  been  the  means  of 
rnurdering  several  times  tlie  number  of  inhabitants  now  upon  the  earth." 
See  that  admirable  piece  of  irony,  A  Vindication  of  Natural  Society,  by  the 
iate  Mr.  Edmund  Burke;  in  which  the  argument  against  Christianity, 
.drawn  froivi  the  mischiefs  occasioned  by  religious  bigotry  and  persecution, 
!s  most  ingeniously  and  completely  wcrthrown. 


IW  SERMON  XII. 

in  general,  so  may  we,  from  the  peculiar  circumstan- 
ces and  situation  of  the  earlier  Christians,  account  for 
the  origin  of  their  propensity  to  it  in  particular. 

Excess   of  happiness,  or  excess  of  misery,  is  fre- 
quently observed  to  give  a  savage  turn  to  the  temper. 
From  the  one,   the  mind  is  apt  to  contract  a  kind  of 
hardness,  and  from  the  other  a  wantonness,  which  ren- 
der  it  equally  insensible  to  the  feelings  of  humanity. 
It   was  from  the  agonies  of  a  death-bed,  amidst  the 
pains  of  a  most  loathsome  disease,  and  the  still  more 
insupportable  torments  of  a  wounded  conscience,  look- 
ing back  on  a  life  full  of  iniquity,  that  Herod  gave  or- 
ders for  all  the  principal  Jews  to  be  massacred  the  mo- 
ihent  he  expired*.     And  it  was,  on  the  contrary,  from 
the  midst  of  a  luxurious  and  a  voluptuous  court,  aboun- 
ding with  every  thing  that  could  minister  to  ease,  mag- 
nificence, and  delight,  that  the  scourge  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, Louis  the  XlVtli,  gave  orders  for  turning  into  a 
desert,  the  country  of  a  prince,  whose  only  crime  it  was 
to  be  his  enemy  f.     So  similar  are  the  effects  which 
flow  from  these  two  opposite  extremes. 

Both  these  extremes  the  Christian  cluu'ch  experien- 
ced, about  the  time  we  arc  speaking  of,  and,  what  was 
still  more  trying,  experienced  them  in  a  very  quick 
succession.  The  members  of  that  church,  from  be- 
ing persecuted,  tormented,  afflicted,  and  treated  as 
the  off-scourings  of  the  earth,  became  on  a  sudden 
the  lords  of  it.  Some,  perhaps,  772^77  have  fortitude 
enough  to  support  great  misery,  or,  what  is  perhaps 
no  less  difficult,  extreme  happiness,  without  any  in- 
jury to  their  tempers.  But  it  is  very  few  that  can  bear 
a  rapid  transition  from  the  one  to  the  other,  from  indi- 
gence, distress,  and  oppression,  to  ease,  security,  and 
power.  It  was  too  much  for  the  disciples  even  of  the 
meek  and  humble  Jesus.     One  might  have  thought, 

*  Josephus.  Antiq.  1  xvii.  c  6. 
•}•  Voltaire,  though  a  Frenchman,  and  of  course  an  adnoirer  of  Louis,  yet 
Speaks  of  this  barbarous  devastation  of  the  Palatinate  in  the  terms  it  de- 
serves. The  natural  and  affecting  picture  he  draws  of  that  shocking  scene* 
must  strike  every  heart  with  horror,  Essai  sur  I'Hkioire  Generale,  torn.  \. 
c.  16. 


SERMON  XIL  149 

perhaps,  that  upon  the  civil  establishment  of  their  re- 
ligion, the  recent  sense  of  iheir  own  sufferings  would 
have  taught  them  a  lesson  of  mildness  and  moderation 
towards  others.     But  it  unhappily  taught  them  the  very- 
same  lesson  that  it  has  generally  taught  to  every  other 
people  in  the  same  circumstances,  in  all  ages  of  the 
world.     For  it  is  a  fact  too  notorious  to  be  denied,  that 
in  most  contentions  for  superiority,  whether  religious 
or  civil,  the  suffering  party,  when  raised  to  power  by  a 
reverse  of  fortune,  has  scarce  ever  Hiiled  to  adopt  that 
inhumanity  under  which  they  so  lately  groaned  ;  and  it 
is  not  so  much  oppression  that  is  crushed,  as  the  op- 
pressor that  is  changed.     Every  one  will,  upon  this 
occasion,  recall  to  mind  the  well-known  sanguinary 
struggles  for  power  between  the  two  rival  states  of 
Greece,  and  the  still  more  sanguinary  revolutions  in 
the  latter  periods  of  the  Roman  republic  ;  where  the 
only  contest  seemed  to  be,  which  should  exceed  the 
other  in  cruelty  ;  and  where  the  remembrance  of  for- 
mer massacres  was  obliterated,  not  by  acts  of  mercy 
and  forgiveness,  but  by  massacres  still  more  furious 
and  unrelenting,  by  the  almost  entire  annihilation  of 
the  vanquished  faction. 

When,  therefore,  our  adversaries  say  that  the 
Christians  made  no  other  use  of  the  new-acquired  as- 
sistance of  the  civil  arm,  than  to  harass  one  another, 
and  oppress  their  enemies,  what  else  do  they  say,  than 
that  Christians  were  men  ;,  that  they  only  did  what  men 
of  all  rcl'igions  and  deriom'mat'wns  have  commonly  done 
under  the  same  circumstances  and  tem.ptations  ;  and 
that  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel  v;as  lost  in  the  corruption 
of  human  nature--'. 

*  We  find  that  even  Julian,  \\\&  philosophic  Julian,  though  not  a  Christian, 
yet  by  some  means  or  other  became  a  most  zealous  bigot  and  persecutor. 
He  was  of  opinion,  it  seems,  that  a  frantic  patietit  (that  is  a  Christian) 
■might  sometimes  be  cured  by  salutary  violence  He  apjjlied  this  remedv 
himself  with  no  small  degree  of  alacrity  and  vigor,  and  in  some  parts  of 
his  dominions  allowed  his  jirovincial  ministers  to  exercise  the  most  brutal 
acts  of  cruelty  towards  the  Christians  with  impunity,  nay  sometimes  witli 
applause.  He  even  added  insult  to  ojipression.  lie  condescended  to  em- 
ploy against  the  detested  Galileans  (as  he  was  pleased  to  call  the  Christians) 
the  acrimony  of  his  imperial  pen,  and  made  them  feel,  not  only  the  whole 
weight  of  his  sovereign  power,  but  the  utmost  severity  of  his  ironical  and 


159  BERMON  XII. 

It  might  have  been  expected,  indeed,  thnt  the  ex- 
cellence of  their  religion  would  have  restrained  them 
from  the  common  excesses  of  their  species,  and  ren- 
dered them  as  much  superior  to  other  men  in  humanity 
and  tenderness,  as  the  benevolence  of  the  Gospel  was 
to  that  of  every  other  religious  institution  in  tlie  world. 
And  certain  it  is  that  Christianity  did  by  degrees  sof- 
ten and  mitigate  the  ferocity  of  the  human  mind.  But 
this  was  not  to  be  done  one  the  sudden,  in  large  bodies 
of  men  and  extensive  empires.  It  could  not,  without 
a  miracle,  instantaneously  change  the  temper  of  the 
times,  and  bring  about  in  a  moment  an  entire  revolu- 
tion in  the  prevailing  disposition  and  established  char- 
acter of  those  ages.  The  Roman  emperors  and  their 
armies  had  for  many  centuries  been  accustomed  to  vio- 
lence, war,  dissension,  and  tumult.  They  had  been 
accustomed  also  to  see  every  thing  bend  to  their  power, 
and  obey  their  commands.  When,  therefore,  they  be- 
came ligislators  in  religion,  as  well  as  in  every  thing 
else,  they  would  carry  the  same  ideas  along  with  them, 
even  into  that  subject.  They  would  expect  a  submis- 
sion as  complete  and  absolute  in  that  point  as  in  every 
other  ;  and,  if  the  smallest  resistance  was  made  to  their 
sovereign  will  and  pleasure,  they  would  be  very  apt 
to  apply  the  same  means  to  subdue  stubborn  con- 
sciences, which  they  had  found  so  successful  in  subdu- 
ing provinces  and  kingdoms.  Thus  did  force  come  to 
be  considered  as  t!ie  properest  and  most  effectual  argu- 
ment in  religious  as  well  as  in  civil  contests.  The  ec- 
clesiastics would  naturally  be  carried  away  in  the  gener- 
al current,  with  all  the  other  subjects  of  the  Roman 
empire,  and  adopt  the  predominant  sentiments  and 
habits  of  their  countrymen.     And  it  would  require  a 

sarcastic  luit.  The  causes  of  those  instances  of  intolerance,  are  not  sureljr 
to  be  sought  for  in  the  religion  of  Christ.  See  Mr.  Gibbon's  Hist,  of  the 
Decline,  Sec.  vol.  ii.  p.  370.  to  409-  T\iq  philosophers  were  the  chief  instiga- 
tors of  the  persecution  of  the  Christians  under  Dioclesian  ;  and  Mr.  Hume 
acknowledges,  that  the  most  refined  and  philosophic  sects,  are  constantly 
the  most  intolerant.  With  what  justice  then  can  "philosophy  alone  beast 
that  her  gentle  hand  is  able  to  eradicate  from  the  human  mind  the  laient 
tind  deadly  principles  of  fanaticism  I"  H».  vol  i,  ch.  8.  n.  24.  vol.  ii.  p.  50i. 
*nd  vol.  i.  p.  560, 


SERMON  XII.  151! 

consklcrablc  length  of  time,  and  much  juster  concep- 
tions of  the  true  character  and  genius  of  the  Gospel 
than  many  of  its  teachers  then  entertained,  to  correct 
those  inveterate  prejudices,  and  subdue  those  turbu- 
lent passions,  which  had  taken  such  firm  hold  upon 
their  minds. 

III.  With  these  obstacles  in  the  waj^  it  was  hardly- 
possible  for  the  mild  and  benevolent  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity to  produce  any  immediate  effect.  And  their 
operation  was  most  unfortunately  still  further  obstruct- 
ed by  another  cause  which  took  place  in  the  succeed- 
ing ages.  Those  northern  barbarians,  who,  not  long 
after  the  civil  establishment  of  Christianity,  invaded 
and  overran  the  western  empire,  brought  in  with  them 
a  spirit  of  cruelty  and  martial  violence,  which  was  pro- 
pagated with  their  dominions,  and  communicated  from 
the  conquerors  to  those  they  conquered.  Their  savage 
manners  added  fresh  fuel  to  that  sternness  of  disposition 
wliich  had  descended  to  the  Christians  of  those  ages 
from  their  Roman  ancestors.  At  the  same  time,  by 
declaring  open  war  against  all  learning,  sacred  or  pro- 
fane, they  in  a  great  measure  precluded  those  whom 
they  had  vanquished  from  the  only  cScctual  remedy  that 
could  be  applied  to  that  barbarity  which  they  taught 
them.  They  rendered  it  almost  impossible  for  them 
to  acquire  a  complete  knowledge  and  a  right  appre- 
hension of  the  true  temper  of  the  Gospel,  whose  mild 
and  gracious  influence  could  alone  rectif}^  their  errors 
and  puiify  their  hearts.  No  wonder  then,  that  when 
this  influence  was  in  a  great  measure  lost,  when  the 
Scriptures  were  shut  up  in  an  unknown  tongue,  \vhen 
the  cultivation  of  letters,  and  especially  of  all  critical 
and  biblical  learning,  was  at  an  end,  ^\  hen  Gothic  bru- 
tality Avas  ingrafted  on  Roman  fierceness,  and  every 
thing  tended  to  inflame  and  exasperate  the  most  furi- 
ous passions  of  the  soul ;  no  wonder  that  the  benefi- 
cent genius  of  Christianity  could  not  operate  with  its 
full  and  genuine  force  on  the  manners  of  those  times. 
Yet  still,  notwithstanding  all  those  disadvantages,  when 
tlie  barbarians  themselves  became  converts  to  the  faith. 


152  SERMON  XIL 

it  did  in  fact  produce  an  effect,  which  no  other  cause 
was  powerful  enough  to  produce  ;  it  moiUfied,  in  many 
important  instances,  the  ferocious  temper  of  those  sa- 
vage conquerors,  who  were  thus  in  their  turn  subdued 
by  the  religion  of  these  very  enemies  whom  they  had 
vanquished  in  the  field*.  And  though,  for  the  reasons 
above  assigned,  the  spirit  of  intolerance  continued  to 
prevail,  and  even  gradually  to  gain  ground  ;  yet  it  was 
not  till  about  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
in  which  darkness  and  barbarity  overspread  the  face  of 
the  whole  earth,  that  this  evil  arrived  at  its  utmost 
height.  It  was  not  till  then  that  the  inhuman  wars 
against  the  Albigenses  first  began,  that  Christendom 
became  for  a  long  time  one  continued  scene  of  desola- 
tion, that  persecution  was  reduced  to  a  regular  system, 
and  murder  made  legal  by  that  dreadful  instrument 
of  human  fury,  the  inquisition  ;  in  all  which,  Chris- 
tianity had  just  as  much  share,  as  ignorance,  enthusi- 
asm, bigotry,  and  superstition,  have  in  the  composi- 
tion of  genuine  Christianity!.  And  although  to  us 
these  wild  excesses  of  mistaken  seal  do  nov/  justly 
appear  in  the  most  odious  colors,  yet,  as  they  w^ere 
only  of  a  piece  with  the  general  practice  of  those  ages 
in  other  instances,  they  did  not  then  excite  in  the 
minds  of  men  any  peculiar  degree  of  astonishment  or 
horror.  At  a  time  v/hen  m/ilitary  ideas  predominated  in 
everything,  in  the  form  of  government,  in  the  temper  of 
the  laws,  in  the  tenure,  of  lands,  and  even  intheachnin- 
istration  of  justice  itself,  it  could  not  be  matter  of  much 
surprize  that  the  church  should  become  military  too. 
And  to  those  who  were  accustomed  to  see  (as  they  then 
frequently  did)  a  ci\'il  right  or  a  criminal  charge,  nay, 
even  an  abstract  point  of  law  J,  decided  by  a  combat 
or  a  fiery  ordeal,  instead  of  a  legal  trial,  it  would  not 

•  See  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  ,vol.  iii. 
p    533.  633. 

f  Most  of  the  bitter  invectives,  and  eloquent  declamations  of  both  foreign 
and  domestic  philosophers  against  the  mischievous  effects  of  religion,  ars 
not  objections  to  Christianity  but  to  pnpery  ;  and  though  they  may  em- 
barrass a  Romish  divine,  yet  seldom  create  any  difficulty  to  a  Protestant  one. 

+  Some  very  curious  instances  of  this  may  be  seeii  in  Dr.  Robertson's 
History  of  Chailcs  V.  vol.  i.  note  22.  p.  olS.  fcivo. 


SERMON  XII.  153 

seem  at  all  extraordinary  to  teacli  men  Christianity  by 
fire  and  faGfsrot,  instead  of  arp-ument  and  reason. 

IV.  There  is  still  another  very  material  considera- 
tion to  be  taken  into  the  account. 

It  is  beyond  a  doubt,  that  a  large  part  of  those  dissen- 
sions, wars,  and  massacres j  which  have  been  usually 
stiled  religious,  and  with  the  entire  guilt  of  which  Chris- 
tianity has  been  very  unjustly  loaded,  have  been  altoge- 
ther, or  at  least  in  a  great  measure,  owing  to  political 
causes.  Nothing  has  been  more  common,  in  all  ages, 
than  to  see  faction  and  ambition  assuming  a  mask  of 
religion,  and  pretending  to  fight  in  die  cause  of  God  and 
his  church,  when  they  had  in  reality  nothing  else  in 
view  but  to  create  confusion  or  establish  tyranny.  It 
is  well  known,  for  instance,  that  the  crusades  them- 
selves, which  are  generally  styled,  by  way  of  eminence, 
the  Holy  Wars,  took  their  rise  not  from  zeal  for  the 
Gospel  or  reverence  for  the  Holy  Land,  but  from  the 
ambition,  avarice,  and  rapacity,  of  two  most  turbulent 
Pontiffs*  ;  that  the  war  of  the  League,  and  other  civil 
wars  in  France,  which  were  commonly  supposed  to  have 
religion  for  their  only  subject,  were  in  foct  originally 
kindled,  and  principally  fomented,  by  the  restless  in- 
trigues and  personal  resentments  of  the  princes  of  the 
blood,  and  other  great  leaders  of  opposite  flictionsf  ;  and 
that  the  dreadful  distractions  in  this  country,  during  the 
last  century,  were  not  (as  one  of  our  historians  affirmsj) 
owing  chiefly  to  religious  controversy,  but  to  political 
causes.  By  what  he  calls,  the  infusion  of  theological 
hatred,  the  sore  was  not  made,  but  only  inflamed ; 
and  although  Cromwell,  with  much  solemnity,  aftccted, 
in  every  stage  of  his  guilty  progress,  to  be  only  seeking 
the  Lord,  yet  it  soon  appeared  that  he  was  in  truth  seek- 
ing, what  he  ultimately  obtained,  the  subversion  of  the 
constitution,  and  the  acquisition  of  sovereign  power. 

From  these,  and  innumerable  other  instances  of  a 
similar  nature,  which  might  be  produced,  it  is  evident 

*  Gregory  the  Vllth,  and  Urban  the  lid. 
t  See  Davlla  throughout ;  but  particularly  B.  i.  and  vi.  in  which  he  invce- 
tigates  with  great  sagacity  the  secret  springs  of  those  disturbances. 
1  Hume,  Hist,  of  England,  dto.  vol.  v.  ]}.  255. 

u 


154  SERMON  XII. 

that  difference  of  opinion  in  matters  of  faith,  has  mucli 
oftener  been  the  ostensible  than  the  real  cause  of  thd  • 
calamities  which  have  been  ascribed  to  it.     But  were 
we  even  to  allow  that  it  has  been  the  true  and  only 
source  of  those  calamities^  yet  still  the  Gospel  itself 
stands  perfectly  clear  of  all  blame  on  this  account. 
Whatever  mischief  persecution  may  have  done  in  the 
world  (and  it  has,  God  knows,  done  full  enough)  it 
was  not  Christ,  but  some  mistaken  followers  of  Christ, 
that  brought  this  sword  upon  earth  j'  and  it  would  be  as 
injurious  to  ascribe  to  Revelation  the  false  opinions  and 
wronj^  practices  of  its  disciples,  however  pernicious, 
as  to  impute  to  the  physician  the  fatal  mistakes  of  those 
who  administered  his  medicines.     The  very  best  laws 
are  liable  to  be  perverted  and  misinterpreted.     It  was 
the  fate  of  the  evangelical  law  to  be  so.     Its  spirit  was 
misunderstood,  and  its  precepts  misapplied,  by  some 
of  its  avowed  friends,  and  its  authority  made  use  of  as 
a  cloak  for  cruelty  and  oppression  by  some  of  its  se- 
cret enemies.     But  the  Gospel  all  the  while  was  guilt- 
less of  this  blood.     It  disclaimed  and  abhorred  such 
unnatural  supports,  which  it  was  as  far  from  wanting  as 
it  was  from  prescribing.     It  authorized  the  use  of  no 
other  means  of  conviction,  but  gendeness  and  persua- 
sion ;  and  if  any  of  its  disciples  were,  by  a  misguided 
zeal,  betrayed  into  violent  and  sanguinary  measures, 
the  blame  is  all  their  own,  and  it  is  they  must  answer 
for  it,  not  Jesus  or  his  religion*. 

V.  That  this  is  a  true  representation  of  the  case,  ap- 
pears not  only  from  the  example  and  the  declarations 
of  our  divine  lawgiver,  and  the  endless  exhortations  in 
the  sacred  writings  to  peace,  love,  mercy,  compassion, 
and  brotherly  kindness  towards  all  men  ;  but  from  this 
consideration  also,  that  in  proportion  as  the  Scriptures 
came  to  be  more  studied,  and  Christianity  of  course 
better  understood,  intolerance  lost  ground  continually, 
and  grew  less  violent  in  every  successive  age.  And  no 
sooner  did  the  revival  of  letters,  and  the  reformation  of 

*  To  impute  crimes  to  Christianity  is  the  act  of  a  Novice.  '  See  the  K. 
*f  Prussia's  Works,  vol.  xi  p.  171, 


SERMON  Xli.  155 

some  parts  of  the  Christian  church,  disperse  that  yEgyp- 
tian  darkness  in  which  all  Europe  had  been  so  long  in- 
voh'cd,  that  juster  notions,  and  milder  sentiments  of  re- 
ligion, began  immediately  to  take  place.  That  hideous 
spectre  persecution,  which  had  terrified  all  the  world 
during  the  night  of  universal  ignorance,  now  shrunk  at 
the  approach  of  day  :  and  when,  upon  the  translation 
of  the  Bible  into  several  languages  then  in  vulgar  use, 
every  Protestant,  with  delight  and  astonishment,  heard 
the  Scriptures  speak  to  him,  in  his  own  tongue  wherein 
he  was  ^orn^-,  he  immediately  felt  the  heavenly  influ- 
ence upon  his  soul ;  and,  as  the  sacred  writings  opened 
more  and  more  upon  him,  found  his  heart  gradually 
melt  within  him  into  tenderness,  compassion,  and  love 
towards  every  human  being,  of  whatever  denomination, 
party,  sect,  or  persuasion. 

VI.  From  that  time  to  the  present,  the  divine  prin- 
ciple of  charity  has  been  continually  acquiring  fresh 
strength.  In  every  reformed,  that  is,  in  every  enlight- 
ened country,  the  native  mildness  of  Christianity  has 
evidently  shown  itself  in  a  greater  or  a  less  degree ;  and 
by  subduing,  or  at  least  greatly  mitigating  the  spirit  of 
intolerance,  has  demonstrated  to  all  the  world,  that  the 
genuine  tendency  of  its  doctrines  and  its  precepts,  when 
rightly  understood,  is  not  to  bring  destruction  but  peace 
upon  earth.  These  happy  consequences  of  a  better 
acquaintance  with  Revelation,  seem  to  be  gradually 
making  their  way  into  other  kingdoms.  Even  that 
church  which  was  the  original  parent,  and  is  still  in 
some  countries  the  chief  support,  of  persecution,  has  of 
late  appeared  to  feel  some  small  relentings  of  humanity, 
and  to  abate  a  litdeof  its  native  implacability.  One  of  the 
firmest  supporters  of  its  tyranny,  the  society  of  Jesuits, 
is  now  no  more,  and  many  other  of  its  religious  com- 
munities are  approaching  gently  to  their  dissolutionf. 

•  Acts  ii.  8. 
f  In  France,  Germany,  Venice,  and  many  parts  of  Italy,  several  religious 
liouses  have  within  the  last  ten  or  twenty  years  been  suppressed.  Smaller 
communities  have  been  thrown  together.  In  some,  none  are  allowed  to 
tai<e  the  vows  under  a  certain  age  nor  to  give  up  to  the  convent  more  than 
a.  certain  part  of  their  property  j  others  are  absolutely  forbid  to  admit  any 
more  novices. 


156  SERMON  XII. 

In  two  of  the  most  bigotted  and  superstitious  countries 
of  Europe*-,  the  inquisition  has  not  of  late  years  exlii- 
bited  any  of  those  public  spectacles  of  cruelty  and  hor- 
ror, with  which  it  used  formerly  to  astonish  all  the 
world.  In  some  places  it  has  lost  or  laid  aside  almost 
all  its  terrors ;  and  in  other  Popish  kingdoms  the  Pro- 
testants are  said  to  enjoy  a  much  greater  degree  of  se- 
curity and  ease  than  they  have  known  for  many  yearsf. 
These  circumstances  seem  to  indicate,  that  the  odious 
spirit  of  intolerance  is  almost  every  where  dying  away, 
and  that  'the  whole  Christian  world  is  gradually  ap- 
proaching to  that  liberal  and  merciful  way  of  thinking, 
which  is  so  conformable  to  the  precepts  of  their  divine 
Master,  and  so  essential  to  the  mutual  comfort  and 
tranquillity  of  all  his  disciples.  Certain  at  least  it  is, 
that  in  every  country  where  the  reformation  has  made 
its  way,  the  more  Christianity  has  been  studied,  and  its 
true  nature  and  disposition  developed,  the  more  benev- 
cleiTt  and  merciful  it  has  constantly  appeared  to  be.  The 
Church  of  England,  in  particular,  has  been  distinguish- 
ed no  less  for  the  moderation  and  lenity  of  its  conduct, 
than  for  the  purity  of  its  doctrines.  And  although,  af- 
ter it  had  shaken  off"  the  galling  yoke  of  Popery,  it 
could  not  on  a  sudden  divest  itself  of  all  its  ancient  he- 
reditary prjudices;  although  it  was  a  considerable  length 
of  time  before  it  could  fancy  itself  secure  against  the 
Protestant  separatists,  without  that  body-guard  of  pains 
and  penalties  with  which  it  had  been  accustomed  to  see 
itself,  as  well  as  every  church  in  Europe,  surrounded  ; 
yet  even  in  the  plenitude  of  its  authority,  and  when  its 
ideas  and  its  exercise  of  ecclesiastical-discipline  were  at 
the  highest,  it  stands  chargeable  with  fewer  acts  of  ex- 
treme and  extravagant  severity  than  any  other  establish- 
ed church,  of  the  same  magnitude  and  power,  in  the 
whole  Christian  world.  By  degrees,  however,  as  it 
improved  in  knowledge,  it  improved  in  mildness  too. 

*  Spain  and  Portugal. 
■]■  In  Poland,  France,  Bohemia,  and  Iiunp;ar}'.      In  the   two  last,  as  well 
as  in  all  the  other  Austrian  dominions,  the  Emperor   Joseph  has  taken  very 
decisive  steps  towards  a  complete  toleration,  and  an  almost  entire  rcniui- 
ciation  of  the  papal  jurisdiction  svithin  his  territories. 


SERMON  XIL  157 

The  last  century  saw  the  beginnings  and  the  present 
times  have  seen  the  farther  extension^  of  a  most  noble 
system  of  religious  liberty,  which  has  placed  legal  tole- 
ration on  its  true  basis  ;  a  measure  no  less  consonant 
to  sound  policy  than  to  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  and 
from  which  avc  may  reasonably  promise  ourselves  the 
most  pacific  and  salutary  effects.  Let  us  then  continue 
to  maintain  the  character  we  have  so  justly  acquired,  of 
being  the  great  supporters  of  religious  freedom  and  the 
sacred  rights  of  conscience  ;  let  us  make  allowances 
for  the  natural  prejudices  of  those  who  differ  from  us, 
and  "  forbear  one  another  in  love."  There  is,  indeed, 
something  very  delightful  in  the  idea  of  the  whole 
Christian  world  uniting  in  every  article  of  faith  and 
practice,  and  agreeing  no  less  in  inward  sentiment  than 
in  outward  form.  But  this,  I  fear,  is  a  visionary  scene  of 
unity  and  concord,  which  we  have  no  reason  to  expect 
from  any  promises  of  Scripture,  and  still  less  from  any 
principles  of  human  nature.  But  there  is  an  unity  very 
consistent  with  the  one,  and  very  forcibly  recommend- 
ed by  the  other,  *'  the  unity  of  the  spirit  in  the  bond  of 
peace*."  This  is  that  truly  Christian  bond,  which, 
linking  together  every  heart,  leaves  every  judgment 
free,  and,  from  the  seeming  discord  of  many  difierent 
parts,  makes  up  the  entire  consent  and  harmony  of  the 
whole. 

By  a  conduct  formed  on  these  genuine  scriptural 
principles,  we  shall  give  the  most  effectual  answer  to  the 
great  objection  which  has  been  here  combated,  and  the 
fullest  confirmation  to  the  several  propositions  that  have 
been  advanced,  and  I  trust  established,  in  this  discourse. 
We  shall  confute  by  example^  as  well  as  by  argument, 
the  heavy  charges  of  cruelty  which  have  been  so  often 
urged  against  the  religion  we  profess.  We  shall  show 
(in  perfect  conformity  to  the  preceding  observations) 
that  these  cruelties  are  in  fact  no  just  ground  of  re- 
proach to  the  Gospel ;  that  they  are  im])utable  only  to 
those  who  have  totally  misapprehended  or  \vilfully  per- 
verted its  doctrines  and  its  precepts  ;  that  the  constitu- 

•  Ephesians  iv.  S. 


15S  SERMON  Xri. 

tional  temper  of  the  Christian  Revelation  is  not  seve- 
rity, but  MERCY  ;  and  that  although  this  was  for  a 
while  obbtructed  or  suspended  by  the  operation  of  ad- 
ventitious causes,  and  the  influence  of  local  and  acciden- 
tal circumstances,  yet  these  having  now  either  w'holly 
ceased,  or  lost  much  of  their  original  force,  the  divine 
benevolence  of  our  religion  has  evidently  begun,  in  this 
and  many  other  countries,  to  produce  its  genuine  effects. 
And  we  have  every  reason  to  believe,  that,  as  scriptural 
knowledge  advances,  these  effects  will  diffuse  them- 
selves, though  perhaps  by  slow  degrees,  over  the  whole 
Christian  world  ;  that  "  the  kingdom  of  God"  shall  fi- 
nally appear  to  be,  in  a  temporal  as  well  as  a  spiritual 
sense,  what  the  Scriptures  afiirm  it  to  be,  joy  and 
PEACE*;  and  the  effect  of  righteousness,  quiEXNESs 

AND  ASSURANCE  FOR  EVERf. 

•  Rom.  xiv.  17.  f  Isai.  xxxii.  1" 


SERMON  XIII. 


Luke   ii.   14. 

071  earth  lieace.,  good-will  towards  men. 

THE  sacred  hymn,  of  which  the  text  is  a  part,  is 
that  which  the  heavenly  host  were  heard  to  sing 
at  the  birth  of  Christ ;  and  the  meaning  of  the  words 
is  generally  allowed  to  be,  That  this  great  event  would 
be  productive  of  peace  to  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth,  and  was  a  most  striking  proof  of  God's  good- 
will to  mankind. 

One  cannot  help  observing  with  what  solemnity  our 
blessed  Redeemer  was  introduced  into  the  world.  He 
had  not  indeed  any  of  this  world's  pomp  to  follow  him. 
The  grandeur  that  attended  him  was,  like  his  king- 
dom, of  a  spiritual  nature  ;  and  it  was  a  grandeur 
which  shamed  the  pride  of  earthly  magnificence.  He 
was  welcomed  into  life  by  the  united  congratulations 
of  those  celestial  spirits,  whose  abodes  he  had  just 
quitted,  to  take  upon  him  the  form  of  a  man.  It  is 
the  only  event  recorded  in  history,  that  was  ever  dig- 
nified with  such  rejoicings,  except  that  of  the  crea- 
tion. When  the  "  corner-stone"  of  the  earth  was 
laid,  the  sacred  writers  tell  us  "  that  the  morning  stars 
*'  sang  together,  and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for 
*'  joy*."  This  corner-stone  f  of  the  new  creation  was 
laid  with  the  same  solemnit}^  It  should  seem  that 
these  were  the  only  two  occasions  which  deserved  so 
glorious   a   distinction ;   and  that  the  redemption   of 

*  Job  xxxviij.  6,  7.  t  Eph.  ii.  20. 


160  SERMON  XIII. 

mankind  appeared  to  the  heavenly  host  to  be  a  work 
no  less  glorious  to  God,  and  beneficial  to  man,  than 
their  creation.  It  is  indeed  in  this  light  that  the  Scrip- 
tures do  all  along  consider  it.  They  represent  it  as  a 
new  creation^,  as  an  entrance  upon  a  new  I'{fe\,  as  the 
production  of  a  new  ma?iX,  and  frequently  speak  of  it 
in  terms  that  have  a  manifest  allusion  to  the  first  for- 
mation of  all  things.  Christ  himself  is  called  the 
LIGHT  of  this  new  worldll ;  and,  as  the  power  and 
wisdom  of  God  are  "  clearly  seen  in  the  things  that 
*%'are  made§,  in  the  natural  world,  so  in  reference  to 
the  spiritual  world,  our  Lord  is  in  a  still  more  emphat- 
ical  manner  styled  the  power  of  cod,  and  the 
WISDOM  OF  GOD  *f|.  And  iudccd,  if  to  form  the  goodly 
fabric  of  this  globe  out  of  a  confused  heap  of  jarring 
elements,  to  raise  up  man  from  the  dust  of  the  ground, 
and  breathe  into  him  a  living  soul,  were  a  most  lively 
display  of  God's  infinite  wisdom  and  power,  it  was 
surely  no  less  striking  a  proof  of  those  divine  attri- 
butes, to  find  out  a  way  of  reconciling  his  justice  and 
his  merc}^,  of  bringing  peace  and  salvation  out  of  guilt 
and  misery,  and  "  quickening  us  again  when  dead  in 
"  trespasses  and  sins**."  And  as  our  redemption 
was  no  less  glorious  to  God  than  our  creation,  so  nei- 
ther was  it  less  beneficial  to  man.  We  should  have 
had  but  little  reason  to  rejoice  in  our  creation,  had  not 
God  once  more  "  created  us  to  good  worksff." 
Christianity  threw  open  to  us  another  and  a  better  world, 
"  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth j J  ;"  it  restored  to  us 
the  only  things  that  could  make  existence  worth  pos- 
sessing, the  favor  of  God,  the  means  of  happiness,- 
and  the  hopes  of  immortality. 

It  is  worthy  also  of  observation,  that  this  mode  of 
celebrating  the  birth  of  our  Redeemer  was  most  re- 
markably adapted  to  tlie  character  of  the  Messiah,  and 
the  nature  of  the  commission  Avith  which  he  was 
charged.  The  ancient  historians  frequently  affected 
to  usher  in  the  birth  of  warriors  and  conquerors  with 

*  2  Cor.  V.  17.  Gal.  vi.  15.  t  Rom.  vi.  4.  %  Eph.  iv.  24.  Ccl.  iii.  10-. 
II  John  viii.  12.  ^Rom.  i.  20.  ^i  1  Cor.  i.  24.  "  Ei:h.  ii.  1. 
f  t  E^es.  u.  10.        X\  2  Pet.  iii.  13. 


SERMON  XIII.  161 

portents  and  prodigies  of  a  dreadful  nature ;  commend- 
able in  this,  at  least,  that  their  fictions  were  well-suited 
to  their  personages,  the  enemies  and  destroyers  of 
mankind.  The  Friend  and  Saviour  of  mankind  was 
introduced  into  the  world  with  declarations  of  universal 
peace  and  good- will.  And  in  this  the  angels  only  speak 
the  constant  language  of  Scripture  in  describing  the 
Messiah.  They  speak  of  him  in  a  manner  in  w  hich 
he  loves  to  speak  of  himself,  in  which  the  prophets 
spoke  of  him  before,  and  the  aposdes  after  him.  He 
is  called  by  Isaiah  "  the  prince  of  teace,"  "Of 
*'  the  increase  of  his  government  and  peace  there  is 
*' said  to  be  no  end*."  A  little  after,  his  reign  is 
described  by  the  most  pacific  emblems  that  imagina- 
tion could  furnish,  by  "  the  wolf  dwelling  with  the 
"  lamb,  and  the  leopard  lying  down  with  the  kidf." 
His  work  of  righteousness  is  peace  :J:,  and  he  makes 
with  mankind  the  covenant  of  peace  §.  He  himself 
tells  his  disciples,  that  "  in  him  they  were  to  have 
"  peace  II ;"  and  it  is  the  legacy  he  bequeaths  them, 
"  Peace  I  leave  with  you,  my  peace  I  give  unto 
you^"^*.  The  sacred  writers  continue  the  same  lan- 
guage in  the  New  Testam.ent.  "The  kingdom  of 
"  God  is  joy  and  peace  ff-"  His  Gospel  is  called 
*'  the  Gospel  of  peace  J  J  ;"  and  it  is  their  constant 
salutation  to  the  persons  and  churches  to  which  they 
write.  So  remarkable  a  frequency  and  agreement  in 
the  use  and  application  of  this  word,  naturally  raise  our 
curiosity  to  enc'uire  into  the  meaning  of  it,  and  make 
it  worth  our  while  to  enquire  in  what  sense  or  senses 
Christ  may  be  said  to  hwoe  brought  peace  upon  earth  : 
w  hich  will  lead  us  to  the  proof  of  the  latter  part  of  the 
text,  that  his  birth  was  a  most  remarkable  instance 
of  GocP s good-imll  to  maniiind. 

I.  The  first  and  most  important  sense  in  which  our 
Lord  may  be  said  to  have  brought  us  peace,  was,  by 
taking  upon  him  the  sins  of  the  world,  and  thereby 
making  our  peace  with  God,  and  in  consequence  of 

•  Isaiah  ix.  6.  r.     f  lb.  xi.  6.     +  lb.  xxxii.  17.     §  lb.  liv.  10.     KJuhnxvi. 
2i.     *'  John  xiv.  27.     ff  Rom.  xiv.  17.     iX  lb  x.  15. 

w 


I63f  SERMON  XIlI. 

this,  giving  us  that  that  peace  of  mind  which  the  world 
Gould  not  give.     "  He  is  our  peace,"  says  the  apostle, 
"  that  he  might  reconcile  us  to  God*."     "  The  chas- 
*'  tisement  of  our  peace  w^as  upon  himf."     "  Being 
"  justified  by  faith,  we  have  peace  with  God  through 
"  our  Lord  Jesus  ChristJ."     Expressions  of  this  and 
the  hke  import  are  so  frequent  in  Scripture,  that  it  is 
impossible  for  the  most  ingenious  criticism  to  elude 
their   force.     They  evidently  prove,  that  the  peace 
which  our  Saviour  "  brought  on  earth,"  was  in  its 
primary  acceptation  of  a  spiritual  nature ;  that  when 
we  were  at  enmity  with  God,  our  peace  was  made- 
with  him  by  the  death  of  his  Son  ;  that  he  gave  him- 
self for  us,  an  offering  and  a  sacrifice  to  Godll ;  and 
that  this  is  the  chief  point  of  view  in  which  his  divine 
mission  is  considered  in  Scripture.     And  no  wonder 
that  it  should  be  so  ;  for  it  was  this  of  which  mankind 
stood  in  the  greatest  need,  and  which  natural  religion 
was  least  able  to  aftbrd.     Whatever  pretensions  reason 
might  make  to  the  knowledge  of  a  future  state,  or  a 
complete  rule  of  moral  conduct,  yet,  to  find  out  what 
atonement  God  would  be  pleased  to  accept  for  the  sins 
of  the  whole  world,  was  a  discovery  which  exceeded 
the  utmost  stretch  of  her  abilities.     That  some  expia- 
tion was  necessary,,  the  Heathens  plainly  saw.     They 
saw,  that  if  there  was  a  God,  he  must  be  pleased  with 
virtue,  and  offended  with  vice.     They  perceived,  that 
they  were  ?ioi  virtuous,  and  therefore  could  not  be  in 
favor  with  God.     They  seem  even  to  have  wanted  the 
first  and  fundamental  requisite  to  tranquillity,  an  assur- 
ance that  pardon  was  on  any  terms  to  be  obtained. 
Their  Jupiter  was  armed  wdth  thunder  and  lightniiig  ; 
he  had  the  ministers  of  his  vengeance  always  at  hand  : 
but  they  had  no  emblems  by  which  they  were  accus- 
tomed to  express  his  7«^/-ry.     There  was  indeed  2i  pos- 
sibility^ perhaps  a  probability,  that  the  Deity  might 
pardon  their  offences  ;   but  there  was  also  a  possibility 
that  he  might  not ;  and  the  very  possibility  of  being  ex- 
posed to  the  resentment  of  a  Being,  without  mercy 

*  Eph.  ii.  14,  16     t  Isai.  liii.  5.      *  Rom.  v.  1.     Ij  Heb.  ix.  26  ;  x.  12. 


SKRMON  Xni.  163 

and  without  control,  was  enough  to  sink  them  into  des- 
pair. But  whatever  hopes  they  might  have  of  appeas- 
ing the  Deity  by  proper  means,  they  could  have  but 
little  (as  I  before  observed)  of  finding  out  those  means. 
The  sacrifice  of  animals  was  the  atonement  on  which 
they  principally  depended  (a  plain  proof  by  the  way, 
that  the  necessity  of  some  animal  sacrifice  was  an  idea 
deeply  rooted  in  the  hearts  of  men) ;  but  they  were  not 
always  satisfied  even  with  this.  Having  perfect  confi- 
dence in  nothing,  they  tried  every  thing.  They  ran 
from  one  expedient  to  another,  and,  like  men  ready  to 
perish,  catched  at  every  thing  that  seemed  to  afford  the 
least  shadow  of  relief.  Hence  that  incredible  number 
of  deities,  temples,  altars,  festivals,  games,  sacrifices, 
supplications,  processions,  and,  in  short,  that  infinite 
variety  of  ceremonies  and  superstitions,  which  served 
plainly  to  show  their  uneasiness,  but  not  at  all  to  re- 
move it. 

Here,  then,  the  Gospel  gave  us  peace,  where  no- 
thing human  could.  From  this  we  know  that  God  is 
merciful,  long-suffering,  and  of  great  goodness.  We 
know  that  he  is  reconciled  to  us  by  the  death  of  his  Son  ; 
we  are  acquainted  also  with  the  means  of  preserving 
that  favor  which  Christ  procured  for  us  ;  and  there  is 
no  longer  added  to  the  misery  of  guilt,  the  torment  of 
not  knowing  how  to  expiate  it.  We  are  assured,  "  that 
*■'■  Jesus  is  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin 
*'  of  the  world  :  that  he  came  to  seek  and  to  save  that 
"  which  was  lost :  and  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him 
*'  shall  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  hfe*.  In  this 
respect,  therefore,  that  is,  in  the  most  important  of  aU 
human  concerns,  the  meanest  man  amongst  us  has  more 
true  content,  and  peace,  and  satisfaction  of  mindf , 
than  all  the  learning  and  wisdom  of  all  the  philosophers 
upon  earth,  ancient  or  modern,  could  ever  bestow. 
But, 

H.  It  is  not  only   in  a  spiritual  sense  that  our  Re - 
:deemer  brought  peace  upon  earth  ;  it  is  true  of  him  in 

*  John  i.  20.     Maith.  xviii.  11.     John  iii.  15. 
t  Te  duce,  si  qua  inanent  sceleris  vestigai  nostri, 
■Itrha, per/ietua  solvent fonnidine  terras.         Viae.  Eel.  iv.  13. 


164  SERMON  XIII. 

a  temporal  meaning  also.  That  benevolence  of  dispo^ 
sition,  and  gentleness  of  behavior,  which  he  so  con- 
stantly and  so  warmly  recommended,  both  by  his  doc- 
trine and  his  example,  were  entirely  calculated  to  pro- 
mote the  peace  and  harmony  of  mankind,  and  to  knit 
them  together  in  one  common  bond  of  love  and  aftec- 
tion.  If  ever  peace  was  made  visible  in  outward  form, 
it  was  in  the  person  of  our  blessed  Lord.  His  whole 
life  and  conversation  were  one  uniform  representation 
of  it,  insomuch  that  it  might,  even  in  this  sense,  be  af- 
firmed of  him,  that  "  of  his  peace  there  was  no  end*." 
It  would  be  no  difficult  nor  unpleasing  task  to  trace  the 
influence  of  this  principle  from  his  earliest  to  his  latest 
breath ;  and  to  draw  together  a  very  uncommon  and 
surprizing  assemblage  of  circumstances,  all  concurring 
to  establish  the  uniformity  of  its  operation  through  the 
Avhole  tenor  of  his  life  ;  but  it  may  suffice  for  the  pre- 
sent to  touch  upon  a  fe5V  of  the  most  obvious.  It  has 
always  been  remarked,  that  he  came  into  the  world  in  a 
time  of  profound  and  almost  universal  peace  ;  and  his 
birth  was  (as  we  have  seen)  first  announced,  by  decla- 
rations of  peace  and  good- will,  to  shepherds,  men,  ge- 
nerally speaking,  of  a  most  quiet  and  inoffensive  dispo- 
sition and  behavior.  The  years  of  his  childhood  were 
passed  in  a  meek  and  dutiful  subjection  to  his  earthly 
parents  ;  and  after  he  came  into  public  life,  he  showed 
the  same  peaceable  submission  to  all  his  other  laM'ful 
superiors.  The  persons  whom  he  chose  to  be  the  com- 
panions and  the  witnesses  of  his  ministry,  were  of  the 
lowest  station,  and  the  humblest  tempers.  The  first 
miracle  he  worked,  was  with  a  design  to  promote  good- 
humor  and  good-will  among  men ;  and  all  of  them 
tended  to  improve  the  peaceful  enjoyment  of  life  in  some 
material  instance.  Yet,  benevolent  as  the  design  of 
these  and  all  his  other  actions  was,  he  endeavored  to  do 
them  all  in  such  a  manner,  at  such  times,  and  in  such 
places,  as  to  give  no  offence  to  any  one  ;  to  excite  no 
envy,  jealousy,  or  unjust  suspicions.  He  had  at  the 
same  time  to  struggle  with  the  prejudices,  the  mistakes, 

•  Isaiah  ix.  7- 


SERMON  XIII.  165 

and  misconstructions  of  his  friends,  and  the  inveterate 
rancor  of  his  enemies  ;  but  yet  he  never  suffered  either 
the  one  or  the  other  to  disturb  the  composure  of  his 
mind,  or  the  peaceablcncss  of  his  deportment.  He  bore 
all  the  unmerited  insults  and  injuries  of  his  adversaries 
uith  more  patience  than  his  followers  could  see  them, 
and  was  almost  the  only  person  that  Avas  not  provoked 
at  the  treatment  he  met  with.  The  same  love  of  peace 
attended  him  to  the  last.  The  sword  that  ^vas  drawn 
in  his  defence  he  ordered  to  be  sheathed*,  and  healed 
the  wound  it  had  inflictedf.  Although,  "  if  he  had 
"  prayed  to  his  father,  he  would  have  sent  him  twelve 
"  legions  of  angelsj,  yet  he  suffered  himself  to  be 
*'  led  like  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter  ;  and  as  a  sheep  be- 
*'  fore  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  opened  he  not  his 
'*  mouth§. 

As  he  lived,  so  he  also  taught,  for  he  "  spoke 
"  PEACE  to  his  people**."  The  main  purport  of  his 
discourses  was,  to  banish  from  the  minds  of  men  all 
those  malignant  and  turbulent  passions  which  fill  the 
world  with  disorder  and  misery,  and  to  introduce  in 
their  room,  every  thing  that  tends  to  turn  away  wrath, 
to  soften  resentment,  and  to  cherish  peace  ;  a  meek  and 
inoffensive  deportment,  a  patient  resignation  under  in- 
juries and  affronts,  a  compassionate  tenderness  and  fel- 
low-feeling for  the  miseries  of  others,  and  a  benevolence 
as  extensive  as  the  whole  creation  of  God.  If  ever  he 
entered  into  a  house,  he  saluted  it  with  peaceff.  If 
the  penitent  and  contrite  sinner  fell  down  and  begged 
mercy  at  his  feet,  he  bid  him  go  in  peace  and  sin  no 
moreJ|.  He  was  continually  exhorting  his  disciples 
to  "  be  at  peace  one  with  another,  to  love  their  very 
"  enemies,  to  bless  those  that  cursed  them,  to  do  good 
"  to  those  that  hated  them,  and  to  pray  for  those  that 
*'  despitefully  used  and  persecuted  them§§." 

From  such  a  doctrine,  supported  by  such  an  ex- 
ample, one  might  naturally  hope  for  the  most  pacific 
effects.     And  in  foct  those  effects  have  followed.   For, 

•Johnxvlii.il.     f  Luke  xxii.  51.     +  Mattli.  xxvi.  53.     §  Isai.  liii.  7". 
•»  Zech.  ix.  10.      tt  Luke  x.  5.      it  lb.  vii.  50  ;  viii.  48.  John  viii.  11. 

§§  Mark  ix.  50.  Matt.  iv.  44. 


166  SERiMON  XIIL 

although  Christianity  has  not  always  been  so  well  un- 
derstood, or  so  honestly  practised,  as  it  might  have 
been  ;  although  its  spirit  has  been  often  mistaken, 
and  its  precepts  misapplied  *,  yet,  under  all  these  dis- 
advantages, it  has  gradually  produced  a  visible  and  a 
blessed  change  in  those  points  which  most  materially 
concern  the  peace  and  quiet  of  the  world.  Its  benefi- 
cent spirit  has  spread  itself  through  all  the  different  re- 
lations and  modifications  of  life,  and  communicated  its 
kindly  influence  to  almost  every  public  and  private 
concern  of  mankind.  It  has  insensibly  worked  itself 
into  the  inmost  frame  and  constitution  of  civil  states. 
It  has  given  a  tinge  to  the  complexion  of  their  go- 
vernmentg,  to  the  temper  and  administration  of  their 
laws.  It  has  restrained  tlie  spirit  of  the  prince,  and 
the  madness  of  the  people.  It  has  softened  the  rigor 
of  despotism,  and  tamed  the  insolence  of  conquests. 
It  has,  in  some  degree,  taken  away  the  edge  of  the 
sword,  and  thrown  even  over  the  horrors  of  \^'ar  a  veil 
of  mercy.  It  has  descended  into  families,  has  di- 
minished the  pressure  of  private  tyranny,  improved 
every  domestic  endearment,  given  tenderness  to  the 
parent,  humanity  to  the  master,  respect  to  superiors, 
to  inferiors  ease  ;  and  left,  in  short,  the  most  evident 
tracesofits  peaceful  genius,  in  all  the  various  sub- 
ordinations, dependencies,  and  connexions  of  social 
life.  These  assertions  would  very  easily  admit,  and 
may  perhaps  hereafter  receive  a  particular  proof.  But, 
for  the  present,  I  must  content  myself  with  observing 
in  general,  that  mankind  are,  upon  the  whole,  even  in 
a  temporal  view,  under  infinite  obligations  to  the  mild 
and  pacific  temper  of  the  Gospel ;  have  reaped  from  it 
more  substantial  worldly  benefits  than  from  any  other 
institution  upon  earth  ;  and  found  it,  by  happy  experi- 
ence, to  be  a  religion  entirely  worthy  the  gracious 
Father  of  the  universe,  and  the  Saviour  of  mankind. 
As  one  proof  of  this,  (among  many  others)  consider 
only  the  shocking  carnage  made  in  the  human  species, 
b}'  the  exposure  of  infants,  the  gladiatorial  shows,  and 

*  Sec  the  preceding  discourse. 


^RMON    Xin.  16T 

the  exceedinpjly  cruel  usage  of  slaves,  allowed  and 
practised  by  the  ancient  Pagans.  These  were  not  the 
accidental  and  temporary  excesses  of  a  sudden  fury^ 
but  were  legal,  and  established,  and  constant  methods 
of  murdering  and  tormenting  mankind,  encouraged  by 
the  wisest  legislators,,  and  aft'ording  amusement  to  the 
tenderest  and  most  compassionate  minds  *.  Had 
Christianity  done  nothing  more  than  brought  into  dis- 
use (as  it  confessedly  has  done)  the  two  former  of  these 
inhuman  customs  entirely,  and  the  latter  to  a  very  great 
degree,  it  had  justly  merited  the  title  of  the  benevo- 
lent RELIGION.  But  this  is  far  from  being  alL 
Throughout  the  more  enlightened  parts  of  Christen- 
dom, there  prevails  a  gentleness  of  manners  widely  dif- 
ferent from  the  ferocity  of  the  most  civilized  nations  of 
antiquity  ;  and  that  liberality  with  which  every  species 
of  distress  is  relieved,  both  by  private  donations  and 
public  benefactions,  even  in  some  of  the  most  bigotted 
countries  of  Europe,  is  a  virtue  as  peculiar  to  the 
Cliristian  name  as  it  is  eminently  conducive  to  social 
happiness.  As  for  ourselves,  in  the  nature  of  our 
civil  constitution,  in  the  extent  of  our  freedom,  in  the 
security  of  our  persons  and  properties,  in  the  temper  of 
our  laws,  in  the  administration  of  justice,  in  domestic 

•  Besfdes  tlie  many  other  well-known  severities  exercised  towards  the 
slaves  of  the  ancients,  there  was  a  law  at  Sparta,  called  the  Cryima,  which 
ordered  them  to  be  murdered  in  cold  blood,  whenever  tliey  increased' 
so  fast  as  to  give  umbrage  to  the  state.  Plutarch,  in  Lycurg.  The  same 
author  {De  Amore  PruUs)  speaks  of  the  exposure  of  infants  as  a  very  com- 
nwn  practice.  Seneca  Aoes  the  same.  Delra,\.  i.  c.  15.  It  still  obtains 
atnonj  the  savages  in  America  ;  and  it  is  said,  that  upwards  of  .1000  chil- 
dren are  annually  e.xposed  in  the  streets  of  Pekin.  Lipsius  affirms  (Saturn, 
1.  i.  c.  12.)  that  the  gladiatorial  shows  sometimes  cost  Europe  twenty  or  thir- 
ty thousand  lives  in  a  month  ;  and  not  only  the  men,  but  even  the  women 
of  all  ranks,  were  passionately  fond  of  these  shows.  The  execrable  barbar- 
ities here  mentioned,  continued  as  they  were  without  intermission  through  a. 
long  course  of  years,  must  havedestroyed  many  more  lives  than  all  the  tem- 
porary ravages  of  religious  persecution  put  together.  I  cannot  conclude  this 
note,  without  observing  how  strongly  these  shocking  facts  confirm  the  de- 
scription given  of  the  ancient  heathens  by  St.  Paul,  who  represents  them  as 
Jitll  of  murder,  iiithout  nahiral  affection,  implacable,  unmerciful.  Rom.  i,  29, 
31.  And  indeed  the  tvhole  picture  he  there  draws  cf  Pagan  morality  and 
religion  will  be  found,  on  examination,  to  be  in  every  the  minutest  feature  of 
it  exactly  and  accurately  true.  Let  the  reader  peruse  that  cha])tcr  with  atten- 
tion, and  let  hiiu  ihaak   Cod,  from  the  bottom  of  his  soiJ,  that  he  is  & 

CHUISTIAN. 


168  SERMON  XIII. 

peace  and  comfort,  in  offices  of  mutual  kindness  and 
charity,  we  have  a  visible  and  undeniable  superiority- 
over  the  ancients.  To  what  then  can  this  happy  change 
in  our  circumstances  be  owing  ?  To  philosophy  (re- 
plies the  Deist  *)  to  mild  and  gentle  philosophy,  to  the 
humane  suggestions  of  reason,  and  the  improvement 
of  the  liberal  arts.  Were  then  reason,  philosophy, 
and  good  learning,  utterly  unknown  in  Greece  and 
Rome  ?  Were  not  these  the  very  fountains  of  every 
thing  that  was  sublime  and  excellent  in  human  wis- 
dom and  polite  literature,  from  whence  tliey  were  dis- 
tributed in  the  purest  streams  over  the  rest  of  the 
world,  and  descended  to  all  succeeding  ages  ?  Were 
they  not  carried,  in  those  great  schools,  to  a  degree  of 
elegance  and  perfection,  at  which  it  is  at  least  doubtful 
whether  the  moderns  have  yet  arrived,  or  ever  will  ? 
And  yet  in  these  very  places,  at  a  time  when  all  the 
arts  and  sciences  were  in  their  full  strength  and  ma- 
turity, it  was  then  that  those  various  inhumanities, 
which  are  by  Christians  held  in  the  utmost  abhorrence, 
were  publicly  authorized,  and  an  ambitious,  conten- 
tious, sanguinary  disposition  universally  prevailed.  It 
was  then  that  almost  every  civil  government  was  a  kind 
of  military  establishment,  was  founded  in  violence  and 
maintained  by  it  ;  that  wars  were  begun  wantonly, 
conducted  fiercely,  and  terminated  inhumanly  ;  that  a 
passion  for  martial  achievements,  a  lust  of  empire, 
an  insatiable  thirst  of  glory  and  conquest,  filled  the 
world  with  bloodshed  and  confusion.  It  was  then 
that,  in  the  very  best  institutions,  the  greatest  part  of 
the  subjects  enjoyed  no  liberty  at  all  ;  and  what  the 
rest  enjoyed,  was  purchased  frequently  at  the  expense 
of  their  repose,  their  humanity,  and  a  great  part  of 
those  social  comforts  Vvhich  render  liberty  truly  valua- 
ble. It  was  then  that  the  courts  of  judicature  (at 
Rome  more  especially)  were  inconceivably  corruptf  ; 
that  the  power  both  of  the  father  and  of  the   husband 

*  Voltaire  de  la  Tolerance,  cli.  iv.  p.  "0.  34.  44. 
t  Opinio  omnium  serwione  percrebuit  in  his  judiciis  qure  nunc  sunt pecuni- 
osum  ho7ninem  quam  vis  sit  noccns,  riemiaem  posse  diriniiari.  Clc.  in  Venevi. 
Orat.  1. 


SERMON  XIII.  169 

was  carried  beyond  all  bounds  of  lenity  and  utility  ; 
that  divorces  were  allowed  for  the  most  trivial  causes  ; 
that  the  education  of  children  was  unreasonably  severe 
and  rigorous  ;  that  infants  were  sacrificed  to  views  of 
policy  ;  that  men  were  trained  up  to  murder  each  oth- 
er, for  the  entertainment  of  the  spectators  ;  and  that 
the  happiest  states  were  continually  rent  in  pieces  by 
the  most  violent  dissensons,  peoscriptions,  and  assas- 
sinations, which  each  party  in  its  turn  retorted  on  its 
ad\'ersaries,  and  always  with  redoubled  fury  and  inhu- 
manity. 

If  then  the  utmost  perfection  of  philosophy  and  the 
fine  arts  was  not  able  to  tame  the  fierceness  of  ancient 
manners,  nay,  if  they  actually  grew  worse,  in  this 
and  many  other  respects,  in  proportion  to  their  ad- 
vancement in  learning  and  politeness,  to  what  else  but 
Christianity  can  it  be  owing,  that  scarce  any  consider- 
able traces  of  this  universal  barbarity  now  remain 
among  us  ;  that  in  dom.estic  society,  the  ease  and  hap- 
piness of  each  Individual,  even  the  very  lowest,  is 
properly  attended  to  ;  that  weakness  of  sex,  tender- 
ness of  age,  and  humility  of  condition,  instead  (  f 
provoking  insult,  generally  attract  pity  and  protection  ; 
that  civil  liberty  is  in  our  own  country  more  firmly 
rooted,  more  equally  diffused,  more  securely  enjoyed  ; 
that  justice  is  most  uprightly  and  impartially  adminis- 
tered ;  that  the  meanest  of  the  people  are  as  much  un- 
der the  protection  of  the  laws  as  the  most  rich  and  pow- 
erful ;  that  the  rage  of  universal  empire  is  considerably 
abated,  and  tlie  frequency,  duration,  and  cruelty  of 
wars  gready  diminished  ;  that  civil  commotions  more 
rarely  happen,  are  attended  commonly  v/ith  fewer  cir- 
cumstances of  inhumanity  and  horror,  and  have  often- 
er  proved  favorable  than  fatal  to  liberty  ;  that  the  very 
worst  dissesions  in  this  country  have  been  *'  less  dis- 
tinguished by  atrocious  deeds,  either  of  treachery  or 
cruelty,  than  were  ever  any  intestine  discords  of  so 
long  continuance*  ;"  and  that  the  two  happiest  changes 
we  ever  experienced,  die  restoratio?i,  and  the  rrcohition 

*  Hume's  Hist.  4to.  vol.  v.  p.  337. 
A. 


170  &ERMON  Xllf. 

were  effected  with  very   little  interruption  of  public' 
tranquillity,  and  were  nothing  more  than  easy  transitiomy 
not  (as  they  would  have  been  under  Pagan  or  Mahom- 
etan governments)  horrible  cowuidsions^  ?  Compare  all 
these  amazing  improvements  in  social  happiness,  since 
the  introduction  of  Christianity,  with  the  precepts  and 
doctrines  of  that  religion  ;   consider  their  natural  ten- 
dency to  produce  what  actually  has  been  produced,  and 
then    say  whether  you  can  hesitate  one  moment  in  as- 
cribing these  effects  to  the  Gospel,  as  their  sole  or  at 
least  principal  cause  ?  What  puts  this  matter  almost 
beyond  a  doubt,  is,  that  m  those  countries  where  the 
Christian  revelation  is  yet  unknown,  the  civil  blessings 
enjoyed  by  Christianity  are  equally  unknown.     The 
miseries  of  their  ancestors  have  descended  to  them  v/ith 
their  supersdtions,  and  bear  a  daily  living  testimony  to 
the  benevolence  of  our  religion  f.     And  it  is  no  less= 
remarkable,  that  the  degree  of  perfection  in  which  these 
advantages  are  enjoyed  by  any  nation,   is  in  general 
pretty  nearly  proportioned  to  the  degree  of  purity  in- 
which  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel  are  there  professed 

*  Some  perhaps  may  be  inclined  to  doubt  the  truth  of  one  of  the  positions 
advanced  above,  viz.  that  the  frequcney,  duration,  (md  cruelty  of  wars  are  less' 
now  than  in  ancient  times.  But  when  we  consider  the  immense  armies  suc- 
cessively raised  and  lost  by  the  Asiatic  monarchs;  the  endless  contentions 
for  sovereignty  between  the  rival  states  of  Greece  ;  the  prodigious  numbers 
slain  by  Alexander  the  great ;  the  sanguinary  contests  among  his  successors 
for  upwards  of  200  years  ;  the  continual  scenes  of  bloodshed  which  Sicily  ex- 
hibited for  many  centuries  under  its  various  tyrants  ;  the  incessant  wars  of 
the  Romans  v/ith  the  Italian  states,  the  Carthaginians,  the  Macedonians, 
Greeks,  and  various  Eastern  nations,  the  Spaniards,  Gauls,  Britains,  and 
Germans,  besides  the  shocking  camasre  of  their  own  civil  wars,  so  as  to  have' 
been  only  three  times  in  a  state  of  peace,  for  a  short  interval,  during  almost 
seven  centuries  ;  when  we  reflect  further,  that  it  was  no  uncommon  thing, 
in  those  ages,  to  see  armies  of  300,000  men  in  the  field,  of  which  sometimes 
the  whole,  frequently  the  greater  part,  and  always  a  large  part,  fell  in  battle  ; 
and  when  to  all  this  we  add  the  incredible  devastations  made  by  the  several 
barbarous  hordes,  that  at  different  times  burst  forth  in  torrents  from  the 
North,  and  deluged  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa  with  blood  ;  we  shall,  perhajis,. 
be  inclined  to  think  that  Christianity  has,  upon  the  whole,  already  lessened 
the  horrors  and  desolations  of  war  in  some  degree,  and  that,  as  it  comes  t» 
be  better  understood,  and  more  generally  embraced  and  practised,  its  pacific 
influence  will  be  growing  every  day  more  visible  and  effectual. 

t  Let  the  reader  only  compare  the  present  state  of  tlie  Eastern  and  Wes- 
tern Indies,  of  Africa  and  China,  of  the  Turkish  and  the  Persian  empires, 
and  of  all  the  late  discovered  islands,  both  in  the  northern  and  the  soutiieriv 
hemisphere,  with  that  of  the  Christian  part  of  Eurojie,  and  he  will  hava 
little  reason  to  doubt  the  truth  of  v.-hat  is  here  risserted, 


SERMON  XIII.  171 

r.nd  taught.  Thus,  for  example  (to  produce  only  one 
instance  out  of  a  multitude)  in  those  kingdoms,  where 
there  is  no  Christianity,  there  is  no  liberty.  Where 
the  superstitions  and  corruptions  of  Popery,  have  al- 
most totally  destroyed  the  simplicity  of  the  Christian 
revelation,  there  too  is  liberty  much  obscured  and  de- 
pressed. Where  some  of  those  corruptions  are  thrown 
off,  there  some  brighter  gleams  of  liberty  appear. 
Where  the  national  religion  approaches  nearest  to  the 
native  purity  of  the  Gospel,  there  too  civil  liberty  shines 
forth  in  its  full  lustre,  and  is  carried  to  adegrte  of  per- 
fection, beyond  A\hich  human  weakness  will  not,  pcr- 
.haps,  suffer  it  to  be  advanced. 

III.  Having  dwelt  so  long  on  the  first  part  of  this 
■discourse,  the  beneficial  influence  of  the  Gospel  on  the 
peace  and  happiness  of  mankind^  there  is  the  less  time, 
and  indeed  the  less  necessity,  to  enlarge  on  the  other, 
that  is,  on  the  eijidence  nvhich  arises  from  hence  of  the  di- 
.vine  goodness  and  mercy  towards  us.  For,  since  it  has 
been  shewn  that  Christ  did  in  almost  every  sense  of  the 
word,  bring  peace  upon  earths  ;  that  he  has  made  our 
peace  with  God,  b}'^  taking  upon  him  the  sins  of  the 
whole  world  ;  that  he  has,  in  consequence  of  this,  re- 
stored to  us  our  peace  of  mind  ;  that  he  has  introduced 
peace  and  gentleness  into  the  sentiments  and  the  man- 
ners of  men  towards  each  other ;  and  that,  notwithstand- 
ing all  the  difficulties  and  disadvantages  under  which 
the  Gospel  has  labored,  the  many  violent  passions  it  has 
had  to  struggle  with,  and  the  variety  of  obstacles  which 
have  impeded  its  operations,  and  counteracted  its  na- 
tural effects,  it  has  nevertheless  gradually  and  silently, 
yet  effectually,  advanced  the  peace  and  comfort  of  so- 
ciety ;  what  need  can  there  be  of  any  further  proof 
that  the  mission  of  Christ  was  a  most  striking  instance 
of  God's  good- will  to  mankind  ? 

Instead  therefore  of  going  about  to  prove  what  we  all 
feel  to  be  true,  let  me  rather  endeavor  to  inspire  you 
with  what  I  fear  is  not  always  felt  as  it  ought  to  be^  a 
jproper  warmth  of  gratitude  and  love  for  such  unspeak- 

*  See  Vitringa  on  Isaiah  ii-  4. 


172  SERMON  XIII. 

able  goodness.     If  you  ask  what  return  God  expects 
for  sending  his  Son  into  the  world,  let  the  A}Dostle  an- 
swer you  ;   "If  God  so  loved  us,  we  ought  also  to  love 
*'  one  another*."  An  extensive,  an  active  benevolence, 
is   the  tribute  he  demands  from  you ;  and  when  he 
mnkes  you  happy,  the  condition  is  no  harder  than  this, 
that  you  should  make  others  so.     Let  then  your  thank- 
fulness be  expressed  in  that  best  and  most  forcible  of 
all  languages,  better,  as  St.  Paul  says,  than  the  tongue 
of  men  and  angels,  charity.     Let  it  prompt  you  to 
every  act  of  kindness   and  humanity  towards   your 
neighbor.     In  this  there  can  be  no  dissimulation  or  dis- 
guise.    Sacrifices  may  be  oifered  by  impure  hands, 
and  praises  by  dissembling  or  unmeaning  lips.     But  he 
who  relieves  the  indigent,  instructs  the  ignorant,  com- 
forts the  afflicted,  protects  the  oppressed,  conceals  the 
faults  he  sees,  and  forgives  the  injuries  he  feels,  affords 
a  most  convincing  proof  of  his  sincerity,  an  incontesti- 
ble  evidence  of  his  gratitude  to  his  heavenly  benefactor. 
And  be  not  afraid,  I  beseech  you,  of  doing  too  much, 
of  oi^er -paying  God's  favors.     After   you  have  ranged 
through  the  whole  field  of  duties,  which  charity  lays 
open  to  you,  the  blessings  you  bestow  will  fall  infinitely 
short  of  those  you  have  received.     Put  then  your  abili- 
ties upon  the  stretch,  to  do  all  the  good  you  can  unto 
all  men.     But  in  a  more  especial  manner,  since  it  was 
one  of  the  chief  ends  of  Christ's  mission  tQ  bring  peace 
upon  earthy  let  it  be  your  great  ambition  to  co-operate 
with  him,  as  far  as  you  are  able,  in  this  great  design  ;  let 
it  be  your  constant  study  and  delight  to  tread  in  the 
steps  of  your  blessed  Master,  and  to  contribute  every 
thing  in  your  power  towards  completing  that  great  and 
god-like  work  of  ghing  peace  to  man.     "  Let  all  bit- 
"  terness,  and  wrath,  and  clamor,  and  evil-speaking,  be 
"  put  away  from  among  you,  with  all  malice  ;  and  be 
*'  ye  kind  one  to  another,  tender-hearted,  forgiving  one 
"  another,  even  as  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  hath  forgiven 
^'  youf." 

*  John  iv.  n.  t  Ephesians  \\.  31,  32. 


SERMON  XIV. 


2  Tim.  iii.  4. 

Lovers  of  pleasures  more  than  lovers  nf  God. 

TO  what  period  of  time,  and  to  what  particular  per- 
sons, the  sacred  writer  here  alkided,  it  is  neither 
easy  nor  material  to  determine.  But  there  is  a  ques- 
tion which  it  is  very  material,  and  I  doubt  but  too  easy, 
for  most  of  us  to  answer  ;  whether  the  description  in 
the  text  may  not  be  justly  applied  to  ourselves  ?  In 
whatever  sense  we  take  the  word  pleasure,  whether 
as  denoting  those  which  are  in  themselves  criminal,  or 
those  which  only  become  so  by  excess  and  abuse  ;  it 
is  surely  doing  us  no  injury  to  say,  that  we  "  love  them 
more  than  God."  At  present  I  shall  confine  myself  to 
that  sort  of  pleasures,  which  are  usually  styled  innocent ; 
and  in  a  certain  degree,  and  under  proper  restrictions, 
undoubtedly  are  so ;  I  mean  the  gaieties  and  amuse- 
ments of  life.  If  we  are  not  lovers  o^  these  pleasures 
more  than  lovers  of  God,  if  our  piety  is  greater  than  our 
dissipation,  it  must  be  great  indeed.  If  we  serve  our 
Maker  with  half  that  zeal,  half  that  alacrity  and  perseve- 
rance, wdth  which  we  pursue  our  amusements,  we 
should  be  the  most  pious  nation  this  day  upon  earth. 
But  how  far  this  is  from  being  the  case,  at  least  with  re- 
spect to  a  large  proportion  of  almost  every  rank  of  men 
amongst  us,  is  but  too  apparent.  It  is  not  the  living 
GOD,  it  is  PLEASURE  that tlicy  worship.  To  this  they 
are  idolaters  ;  to  this  they  sacrifice  their  time,  their  ta- 
lents, their  fortunes,  their  health,  and  too  often  their  in- 


174  SERMON  XIV. 

nocence  and  peace  of  mind.  In  their  haste  to  enjoy 
this  life,  they  forget  that  there  is  another ;  they  live  (as 
the  Apostle  expresses  it)  "  without  God  in  the  world*," 
and  their  endless  engagements  not  only  exclude  all  love, 
but  all  thought,  of  him.  However  carefully  right  prin- 
ciples of  religion  may  have  been  originally  planted  in 
their  breasts,  they  have  no  room  to  grow  up.  They  arc 
choked  with  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  and  bring  no 
fruit  to  perfection.  Invention  seems  to  have  been  tor- 
tured to  find  out  new  ways  of  consuming  time,  and  of 
being  uselessly  employed.  And  there  has  appear- 
ed so  wonderful  an  ingenuity  in  this  respect,  that  it 
seems  almost  impossible  for  the  wit  of  man  to  invent,  or 
the  life  of  man  to  admit,  any  further  additions  to  this 
kind  of  luxury.  There  are  thousands,  even  of  those 
•%vho  would  take  it  very  ill  to  be  called  vicious,  who  yet 
from  the  time  of  their  rising  in  the  morning  to  the  time 
of  their  going  to  rest  at  night,  never  once  bestow  a  sin- 
gle thought  upon  eternity  ;  nor  while  they  riot  in  the 
blessings  of  Providence,  vouchsafe  to  cast  one  devout 
look  up  to  the  gracious  Author  of  them,  in  whom 
"  they  live,  and  move,  and  have  their  beingf." 

Many,  I  know,  would  persuade  themselves  and 
others,  that  there  can  be  no  harm  where  there  is  no 
actual  vice  ;  and  that,  provided  they  step  not  over  the 
bounds  of  virtue,  they  cannot  be  guilty  of  an  excess 
in  pleasure. 

But  is  it  true,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  man  of  gai- 
ety never  does  step  over  the  bounds  of  virtue  t  Are  all 
those  things  which  go  under  the  name  of  amusements 
as  perfectly  innocent  as  they  are  generally  represented 
to  be  ?  Is  there  not  oiie  diversion  at  least  (as  it  is  called) 
and  one  so  predominant  in  the  higher  ranks  of  life, 
that  it  has  swallowed  up  almost  every  other,  which  is 
big  with  the  most  fatal  mischief?  A  diversion,  which, 
far  different  from  the  common  run  of  amusements,  has 
310  foundation  in  our  natural  appetites  ;  no  charms  to 
captivate  the  faucy,  or  the  understanding  ;  nothing  to 
make  glad  the  heart  of  man,  to  give  him  a  cheerful 

*  Eph.  ii.  12.  t  Acts  xvii.  28. 


SERMON  XIV.  175 

countenance,  and  refresh  him  after  the  cares  ^nd  fa- 
tigues of  duty  ;  but  runs  counter  to  reason,  sense,  and 
nature  ;  defeats  all  the  purposes  of  amusement ;  sinks 
the  spirits  instead  of  raiding  them  ;  sours  the  temper 
instead  of  improving  it :  and,  when  it  is  carried  to  its 
utmost  lengths,  takes  such  entire  and  absolute  posses- 
sion of  die  soul,  as  to  shut  out  every  other  concern 
both  for  God  and  man  ;  extinguishes  every  generous 
sentiment ;  excites  the  most  malignant  passions  ;  pro- 
vokes to  the  most  profane  expressions  ;  brings  distress, 
sometimes  ruin,  upon  its  wretched  votaries,  their  fam- 
ilies, friends,  and  dependants  ;  tempts  them  to  use  un- 
fair, or  mean,  or  oppressive  methods  of  retrieving 
their  aifairs ;  and  sometimes  to  conclude  the  dismal 
scene  by  the  last  fatal  act  of  desperation.  I  do  not  say 
that  gaming  always  produces  these  effects  ;  or  that  it 
is  to  all  persons,  in  all  circumstances,  and- in  all  its 
various  degrees,  equally  pernicious  and  unlawful.  But 
it  has  always  a  natural  tendency  to  these  effects,  it  al- 
ways exposes  ourselves  and  others  to  great  danger,  and 
can  never  be  ranked  among  our  innocent  amusements. 
Yet  as  such  it  is  every  day  more  and  more  pursued  ; 
nay  has  even  apjircpriated  to  itself  the  name  of  play  ; 
for  what  reason  I  know  not,  unless  to  play  w ith  our 
lives  and  fortunes,  with  happiness  temporal  and  eternal, 
be  the  most  delectable  of  all  human  enjoyments. 

But  putting  this  strange  unaccountable  passion  out 
of  the  questi(;n  ;  do  not  even  our  most  allowable  di- 
versions sometimes  end  in  sin,  though  they  may  not 
begin  with  it  ?  Does  not  an  immoderate  fondness  for 
these  trivial  things,  insensibly  weaken  and  corru})!  our 
liearts,  and  lead  us  by  imperceptible  steps  to  a  temper 
of  mind,  and  a  course  of  action,  essentially  wrong  .^ 
The  fact  is,  a  state  o^  neutrality  in  religion,  an  insipid 
mediocrity  between  vice  and  virtue,  though  it  is  v.  hat 
many  would  be  glad  to  take  up  with,  is  an  imaginary 
state  ;  at  least,  is  very  seldom,  if  ever,  to  be  found  in  a 
life  of  gaiety  and  dissipation.  The  man  w  ho  is  con- 
stantly e«gaged  in  the  amuscmcr.ts,  can  scarce  e^■er 
tscape  the  pollutions,  of  the  'a  orkl.     In  his  eager  pur- 


176  SERMON  XIV. 

suits  of  pleasure,  he  will  be  sometimes  apt  to  overshoot 
the  mark,  and  to  go  further  than  he  ought,  perhaps 
than  he  intended.  Even  they  who  are  most  in  earnest 
about  their  future  welfare  ;  who  have  taken  care  to 
fortify  their  minds  with  the  firmest  principles  of  reli- 
gion ;  who  constantly  endeavor  to  keep  alive  their 
hopes  and  fears  of  futurity  ;  to  guard  with  the  utmost 
vigilance  every  avenue  of  the  mind,  and  secure  all  "  the 
issues  of  life*;"  even  these,  I  sa}-,  are  sometimes 
unable  with  all  their  caution  and  circumspection,  to 
prevent  surprize  ;  with  all  their  strength  and  resolu- 
tion,, to  withstand  the  violence  of  headstrong  passions 
and  desires ;  which  often  burst  through  all  restraints, 
and  beat  down  all  the  barriers  that  reason  and  religion 
had  been  a  long  time  raising  up  against  them.  What 
then  must  be  the  case  when  all  the  impressions  of  reli- 
gion are,  by  the  continual  attrition  of  diversions,  worn 
out  and  effaced  ;  when  the  mind  is  stript  of  all  pru- 
dential caution ;  no  guard  left  upon  the  imagination  ; 
no  check  upon  the  passions  ;  the  natural  spring  and 
vigor  of  the  soul  impaired,  and  no  supernatural  aid  to 
strengthen  and  support  it  ?  What  else  can  be  expected, 
but  that  we  should  fall  an  easy  prey  to  the  weakest 
invader,  and  yield  ourselves  up  to  the  slightest  temp- 
tation ?  "  When  the  unclean  spirit  cometh,  he  finds 
"  everything  within  prepared  for  his  reception,  empty, 
"  swept,  and  garnished  ;  and  he  taketh  with  him  seven 
"  other  spirits  more  wicked  than  himself;  and  they 
"  enter  in,  and  dwell  there,  and  the  last  state  of  that 
"  man  is  worse  than  the  first  f  ;"  he  begins  in  gaiety, 
and  ends  in  vice. 

Let  us,  hov.ever,  take  this  question  up  on  the  most 
favorable  grounds  :  let  us  allovv'  it  possible  for  you  to 
run  round  for  ever  in  the  circle  of  gaiety,  without  ever 
once  striking  into  the  paths  of  vice.  Is  this,  do  you 
think,  sufficient  for  salvation  ?  If  your  amusements  as 
effectually  choke  the  good  seed  as  the  rankest  weeds 
of  vice,  can  you  with  any  propriety  call  them  innocent  ? 
Do  you  imagine  that  God,  who  is   a  jealous  God|," 

*  Proverbs  iv.  23.         f  Matth.  xii.  ii,  45.         \  Exod.  xx.  5. 


SERMON  XIV.  177 

will  bear  to  be  supplanted  in  your  affections  by  every 
trifle  ;  or  that  he  will  be  content  with  your  not  taking 
up  arms  against  him,  though  you  do  him  not  one 
single  piece  oi' acceptable  service?  The  utmost  you 
can  plead  is  a  kind  of  negative  merit,  the  merit  of  doing 
neither  good  nor  harm  ;  and  what  reception  that  is 
likely  to  meet  with,  you  may  judge  from  the  answer 
given  to  the  unprofitable  servant,  who  produced  his 
talent  wrapt  up  in  a  napkin,  undiminished  indeed,  but 
unimproved  :  "  O  thou  wicked  servant,  wherefore 
"  gavest  thou  not  my  money  into  tiie  bank,  that  at  my 
"  coming  I  might  have  required  mine  own  with  usu- 
*'  ry*  ?"  It  is  not  enough  merely  to  abstain  from  gross 
crimes.  It  is  not  enough  to  enjoy  yourselves  in  an  in- 
dolent harmless  tranquillity  ;  to  divide  matters  so  nicely 
as  to  avoid  equally  the  inconveniences  of  vice,  and  the 
fatigues  of  virtue  ;  to  praise  religion  in  words,  to  love  it 
perhaps  in  speculation,  but  to  leave  the  trouble  of  prac- 
tising it  to  others.  This  languor  and  inactivity  is  a 
kind  of  lethargy  in  the  soul,  which  renders  it  utterly 
insensible  to  the  life  and  spirit  of  religion.  Indiffer- 
ence in  any  good  cause  is  blameable.  In  religion,  in 
the  Christian  religion,  it  is  insupportable.  It  does  vi- 
olence to  the  first  and  fundamental  principle  of  that  re- 
ligion :  "  Thou  shall  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
*'  thy  heart,  with  all  thy  soul,  with  all  thy  mind,  and 
*'  with  all  thy  sirengthf."  Go  now  and  let  your  whole 
heart,  and  soul,  and  mind,  and  strength,  be  engaged 
in  pursuing  your  amusements,  and  promoting  your 
pleasures,  and  then  lay  claim  to  the  rewards  of  Chris- 
tianity. 

Happy  will  it  be  for  you,  if  you  can  escape  its  pun- 
ishments. The  Gospel,  I  am  sure,  gives  you  no 
grounds  to  suppose  that  you  shall.  Though  you  bear 
no  "  evil  fruit,"  yet  if  you  bear  no  "good,"  you  are 
involved  in  the  sentence  of  the  fig-tree,  "  Cut  it  down, 
"  why  cumbereth  it  the  ground|."  To  do  nothing  is,  in 
many  cases,  to  do  a  positive  wrong,  and  as  such  requires 

•  Luke  xix,  Qi.         f  Mark  xii.  30,  J  Luke  xiii.  T, 

Y 


178  SERiMON  XIV. 

a  positive  punishment.  To  stand  neuter  in  dangerous 
commotions  of  the  state,  the  great  Athenian  lawgiver 
declared  to  be  a  crime  against  the  state  ;  and  in  like 
manner  the  great  Christian  lawgiver  declares  ;  "he 
"  that  is  not  with  me,  is  against  me,  and  he  that  galh- 
*'  ercth  not  with  me,  scattereth  abroad*." 

Christianity  is  throughout  an  acthe  religion  ;  it  con- 
sists not  only  in  "  abstaining  from  all  appearance  of 
"  evilf  ;"  but  "  in  being  ready  to  every  good  W'Ork:]:  ;" 
and  if  we  stop  short  at  the  first,  we  leave  the  better 
half  of  our  business  undone.  Christ  himself  "  went 
"  about"  continually  "doing  good[|  ;"  and  he  has  pre- 
scribed a  variety  of  positive  and  practical  duties  to  his 
disciples,  as  the  condition  of  their  salvation  ;  and 
pressed  the  performance  of  these  duties  upon  them, 
with  an  earnestness  and  a  force  of  expression,  that 
may  well  alarm  the  thoughtless  and  the  gay,  and  make 
them  reflect  on  the  extreme  danger  of  their  situation. 
With  regard  to  God,  we  are  commanded  "  to  believe 
"  in  him,  to  fear  him,  to  love  him,  to  worship  him, 
"  to  give  him  thanks  always,  to  pray  without  ceasing, 
"  and  watch  thereunto  with  all  perseverance."  With 
regard  to  our  neighbor,  we  are  "to  do  good  unto  all 
"  men,  to  be  rich  in  good  works,  to  be  kind  and  ten- 
"  -der-hearted,  to  feed  the  hungry,  to  cloath  the  na- 
"  ked,  to  remember  them  that  are  in  bonds,  to  minis- 
*'  ter  to  the  sick,  to  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in 
*'  their  afjliction."  With  regard  to  ourselves,  we  are 
enjoined  "  to  be  temperate  in  all  things,  to  keep  under 
"  our  bodies,  and  bring  them  into  subjection,  to  set 
"  our  affections  on  things  above,  to  watch  and  pray 
"  lest  we  enter  into  temptation,  to  work  out  oursalva- 
"  tion  with  fear  and  trembling,  to  use  all  diligence  to 
"  make  our  calling  and  election  sure."  Such  and  so 
various  are  the  duties  pressed  upon  us  in  every  page  of 
the  Scriptures.  And  is  this  now  a  religion  to  be  tri- 
fled with  ?  Is  it  not  enough  to  employ  every  moment 
we  can  spare  from  the  indispensible  duties  of  our  sta- 
tion,  and  the  necessary  refreshments  of  nature  ;  and  how 

*  Matt.  xii.  30,         f,  1  Tncss.  v.  23.         \  Tit.  ill,  1.         |t  Acts  x.  38. 


SERMON  XIV.  179 

tlien  can  it  be  consistent  with  that  incessant  hurry  and 
dissipation,  which,  intent  only  on  provicling  a  succes- 
sion of  worthless  amusements  and  ignoble   gratifica- 
tions, overlooks  every  obligation  of  a  man  and  a  Chris- 
tian ;   and  supposes  that  the  whole  business  of  life  is  not 
to  employ  time  usefully,  but  to  consume  it  insignificant- 
ly ?  Can  these  men  seriously  imagine  that  they  are  all 
this  time  '*  working  out  their  salvation,"  that  they  are 
*'  pressing  forward  towards  the  mark  of  the  prize   of 
*'  their  high  calling*,"  that  they  are  every  day  draw- 
ing nearer  and  nearer  to  immortal  happiness,   and  that 
they   shall  share  the   crown  of  glory  with  them  who 
*'  have  borne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day  ff"  Is 
eternal  life  so  very  small  an  object,  so  extremely  cheap 
a  purchase,  as  to  require  not  the  least  pains  to  obtain  it  ? 
Or  is  the  situation  of  the  rich  man  represented  in  Scrip- 
ture to  be  so  perfegdy  safe  and  secure,   that,  while  the 
rest  of   mankind  are  enduring   afflictions,  struggling 
with  difficulties,  subduing  their  passions,  and  "  ,work- 
**  ing  out  their  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling  ;"  he, 
and  he  only,    may  neglect  all  these  precautions,  may 
give  up   his  whole  time  and  thoughts  to  dress,  and 
magnificence,  and  diversion,    and  good   cheer ;  may 
center  his  whole  care  in  his  own  dear  person,  and  make 
it  his  sole  study  to  gratify  every  wish  of  his  heart ;  may 
leave  his  salvation  to  take  care  of  itself,  and,  as  if  he 
had  obtained  a  promise  of  Heaven  in  reversion,   think 
of  nothing  but  present  felicity ;  and  say  within  him- 
self, "  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  man^ 
*'  years,  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  J  :" 
Be  not  deceived  :  this  is  not  virtue  ;  this  is  not  reli- 
gion ;  this  is  not  Christianity.     It  is,  on  the  contrary, 
that  very  temper  of  mind,   that  indolent,  soft,  luxuri- 
ous, dream  of  the  soul,  for  which  the  rich  man  in  the 
Gospel  was  condemned   "  to  lift  up  his  eyes  in  tor- 
"  ments[j  ;"   and  let  those  who  dread  his  punishment 
be  warned  by  his  example. 

It  is  then  a  fatal  mistake  to  suppose,  that  a  life  of 
continual  gaiety  and  dissipation,  because  it  is  not  mark- 

*  Phil.  iii.  14.         f  Matt.  xx.  12.       \  Luke  xii.  19.       I!  Luke  xvii.  23. 


180  SERMON  XIV. 

ed  with  any  notorious  crimes,  because  it  does  not  shock 
our  consciences  with  palpable  guilt,  is  therefore  per- 
fectly innocent.  You  have  by  this  time  seen,  I  hope, 
that  it  is  far  from  being  so.  You  have  seen  that  it  natu- 
rully  leads  to,  and  frequently  terminates  in,  actual  vice  ; 
that  at  the  least  it  so  totally  unmans  and  enfeebles  the 
soul,  as  to  render  it  unfit  for  the  reception  of  religious 
truths,  incapable  of  exerting  its  nobler  powers,  unable 
to  struggle  through  the  common  difficulties,  or  sup- 
port the  common  afflictions,  of  life ;  and  leaves  neither 
time,  nor  inclination,  nor  ability,  to  perform  the  most 
important  duties  of  a  man,  a  social  being,  and  a  Chris- 
tian. 

The  truth  is ;  although  diversioifs  may  serve  very 
well  to  quicken  a  palled  appetite,  they  are  much  too 
poignant  and  high-seasoned  to  be  the  constant  food  c:ird 
nourishment  of  the  soul.  They  not  only  destroy  our 
relish  for  the  more  plain  and  simple  fare  of  sobriety 
and  virtue,  but  lay  a  foundation  for  the  worst  diseases  ; 
and  though  they  do  not  so  instantly  kill  as  the  deadly 
poison  of  vice,  'yet  with  a  gradual  and  fatal  certainty, 
they  undermine  the  vital  parts,  and  sap  the  constitution. 

Beware  then  of  an  error,  which  is  the  more  dan- 
gerous, because  it  is  not  always  perceived,  or  at  least 
acknowledged,  to  be  an  error.  And  such  of  you, 
more  especially,  as  are  just  setting  out  in  life,  full  of 
those  high  spirits  and  gay  imaginations  which  youth, 
and  rank,  and  affluence  naturally  inspire  ;  beware  of 
giving  way  to  that  feverish  thirst  of  pleasure,  to  that 
frivolous  turn  of  mind  and  levity  of  conduct,  which 
will  render  all  your  great  advantages  useless,  and  total- 
ly defeat  every  grand  purpose  of  your  creation.  Do 
not  imagine  that  you  were  born  to  please  yourselves 
only.  Do  not  entertain  that  false,  that  destructive  no- 
tion, that  your  wealth  and  time  are  all  your  own  ;  that 
you  may  dispose  of  them  exactly  as  you  think  fit ; 
may  lavish  the  whole  of  them  on  your  own  pleasures 
and  amusements,  without  being  accountable  to  any  one 
for  the  application  of  them.  There  is  One,  most  as- 
suredlv,  v^^ho  may,  and  who  has  declared  that  he  will. 


SERMON  XIV.  181 

call  you  to  an  account,  for  the  use  of  that  leisure,  and 
those  riches,  which  he  bestowed  upon  you  for  far  other 
purposes  than  that  mean  ignoble  one  of  mere  selfish 
gratification.  There  are  duties  of  the  last  importance 
owing  to  your  families,  }  our  friends,  your  country, 
your  fellow-creatures,  your  Creator,  your  Redeemer, 
which  you  are  bound  under  the  most  sacred  ties  to  per- 
form ;  and  whatever  calls  off  your  attention  from  these, 
does  from  that  moment  cease  to  be  innocent.  Here 
then  is  the  precise  point  at  which  you  ought  to  stop. 
You  may  be  LOVERS  OF  PLEASURE  ;  itisnatural,  itis 
reasonable,  for  you  to  be  so ;  but  you  must  not  b© 

LOVERS  OF  PLEASURE,  MORE  THAN  LOVERS  OF  GOD. 

This  is  the  true  line  that  separates  harmless  gaiety  from 
criminal  dissipation.  It  is  a  line  drawn  by  the  hand  of 
God  himself,  and  he  will  never  suffer  it  to  be  passed 
with  impimity.  HE  claims,  on  the  justest  grounds, 
the  first  place  in  your  hearts.  His  laws  and  precepts 
arc  to  be  the  first  object  of  your  regard.  And  be  as- 
sured, that  by  suffering  them  to  be  so,  you  will  be  no 
losers  even  in  present  felicity.  It  is  a  truth  demonstra- 
ble by  reason,  and  confirmed  by  invariable  experience, 
that  a  perpetual  round  of  fashionable  gaiety,  is  not  the 
road  to  real  substantial  happiness.  Ask  those  m  ho  have 
tried  it,  and  they  will  all  (if  they  are  honest)  with  one 
voice  declare,  that  it  is  not.  It  is  indeed  in  the  very 
nature  of  things  impossible  that  it  should  be  so.  This 
world  is  not  calculated  to  afford,  the  human  mind  is 
not  formed  to  bear,  a  constant  succession  of  new  and 
exquisite  delights.  To  aim  therefore  at  uninieri  apted, 
unbounded  gaiety,  to  make  pleasure  so  necessary  to 
your  existence,  that  you  cannot  subsist  one  moment 
Avithout  it,  is  to  convert  every  thing  that  is  not  absolute 
pleasure  into  absolute  pain,  and  to  lay  the  foundation 
of  certain  misery.  Diversions  are  of  too  thin  and  un- 
substantial a  nature  to  fill  the  whole  rapacity  of  a  ra- 
tional mind,  or  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  a  soul  form- 
ed for  immortality.  l1iey  must,  they  do,  Un  ar.d 
disgust;  you  see  it  every  day;  you  see  men  i^^iug 
from  orle  amusement  to  another ;  afiecting  to  be  happy, 


182  SERMON  XIV. 

yet  feeling  themselves  miserable  ;    fatigued  with  pur- 
suing their  pleasures,  yet  uneasy  without  them  ;  grow- 
ing sick  at  last  of  them  all,  of  themselves,  and  every 
thing  around  them ;  and  compelled  perhaps  at  last  to 
have  recourse  to  solitude,  without  the  least  provision 
made  for  it ;  v/ithout  any  fund  of  entertainment  within, 
to  render  it  supportable.     From  this  wretched  state  it 
is  that  religion  would  preserve  you  ;  and  the  very  worst 
you  have  to  fear  from  it,  is  nothing  more  than  such 
gentle  restaints  on  your  gaiety,  as  tend  to  promote  the 
very  end  you  have  in  view,  the  true  enjoyment  even 
of  the  present  life.     Suffer  it  then  to  do  you  this  kind 
office  ;  and  do  not  look  on  Christianity  in  that  gloomy 
light,  in  which  it  sometimes  perhaps  appears  to  you. 
Far  from  being  an  enemy  to  cheerfulness,  it  is  the  tru- 
est friend  to  it.     That  sober  and  temperate  use  of  di- 
versions, which  it  allows  and  recommends,  is  the  sur- 
est way  to  preserve  their  power  to  please,  and  your 
capacity  to  enjoy  them.     At  the  same  time,  though  it 
forbids  excess  in  our  pleasures,  yet  it  multiplies  the 
number  of  them ;  and  disposes  the  mind  to  receive 
entertainment  from  a  variety  of  objects  and  pursuits, 
which  to  the  gay  part  of  mankind  are  absolutely  flat 
and  insipid.     To  a  body  in  perfect  health,  the  plainest 
food  is  relishing  ;  and  to  a  soul  rightly  harmonized  by 
religion,  every  thing  affords  delight.  Rural  retirement, 
domestic  tranquillity,    friendly  conversation,    literary 
pursuits,  philosophical  enquiries,  works  of  genius  and 
imagination ;  nay  even  the  silent  beauties  of  unadorn- 
ed nature,  a  bright  day,  a  still  evening,  a  starry  hemi- 
sphere, are  sources  of  unadulterated  pleasure,  to  those 
whose  taste  is  not  vitiated  by  criminal  indulgences,  or 
debased  by   trifling  ones.     And  when  from  these  you 
rise  to  the  still  more  rational  and  manly  delights  of  vir- 
tue ;   to  that  self- congratulation  which  springs  up  in  the 
soul  from  the  consciousness  of  having  used  your  best 
endeavors  to  act  up  to  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel ;  of 
having  done  your  utmost,  witli   the    help  of  Divine 
Grace,    to  correct  your  infirmities,   to  subdue  your 
passions,  to  improve  your  understandings,    to  exalt 


SERMON  XIV.  185 

and  purify  your  affections,  to  promote  the  welAire  of  all 
within  your  reach,  to  love  and  obey  your  Maker  and 
your  Redeemer ;  then  is  human  happiness  wound  up 
to  its  utmost  pitch ;  and  this  world  has  no  higher  grat- 
ifications to  give. 

Try  then,  you,  who  are  in  search  of  pleasurs,  try 
these  among  the  rest ;  try,  above  all  odiers,  the  pleas- 
ures of  devotion.  Think  not  that  they  are  nothing^ 
more  than  the  visions  of  a  heated  imagination.  They 
are  real,  they  are  exquisite.  They  are  what  thousands 
have  experienced,  what  thousands  still  experience, 
what  you  yourselves  may  experience  if  you  please. 
Acquire  only  a  taste  for  devotion,  (as  you  often  do  for 
other  things  of  far  less  value)  in  the  beginning  of  life, 
and  it  will  be  your  support  and  comfort  through  the 
whole  extent  of  it.  It  will  raise  you  above  all  low 
cares,  and  litUe  gratifications  ;  it  will  give  dignity  and 
sublimity  to  your  sentiments,  inspire  you  with  forti- 
tude in  danger,  m ith  patience  in  adversity,  with  mod- 
eration in  prosperity,  with  alacrity  in  all  your  underta- 
kings, with  watchfulness  over  your  own  conduct,  with 
benevolence  to  all  mankind.  It  will  be  so  far  from 
throwing  a  damp  on  your  other  pleasures,  that  it  will 
give  new  life  and  spirit  to  them,  and  make  all  nature 
look  gay  around  you.  It  will  be  a  fresh  fund  of  cheer- 
fulness in  store  for  you,  when  the  vivacity  of  youth  be- 
gins to  droop  ;  and  is  the  only  thing  that  co7i  fill  up 
that  void  in  the  soul,  which  is  left  in  it  by  every  earth- 
ly enjoyment.  It  will  not  like  worldly  pleasures,  de- 
sert you,  when  you  have  most  need  of  consolation  in 
the  hours  of  solitude,  of  sickness,  of  old  age  ;  but 
when  once  its  holy  flame  is  thoroughly  lighted  up  in 
your  breasts,  instead  of  becoming  more  faint  and  lan- 
guid as  you  advance  in  years,  it  will  grow  brighter  and 
stronger  every  day  ;  will  glow  with  peculiar  warmth 
and  lustre,  when  your  dissolution  draws  near  ;  will  dis- 
perse the  gloom  and  horrors  of  a  death-bed  ;  will  give 
you  a  foretaste,  and  render  you  worthy  to  partake  of 
that  FULNESS  OF  JOY,  thosc purc  celestial  pleasures 
■which  are  at  "  God's  right  hand  for  evermore*." 

»  Psal.  xvi.  U. 


SERMON  XV. 


James  ii.  10. 

Whosoever  sliall  keefi  the  ivhole  law,  and  yet  offend  in  one  point,  he 
is  guilty  of  all. 

THERE  are  few  passages  of  Scripture  which  have 
given  more  occasion  of  triumph  to  the  enemies 
of  Christianity,  and  more  disquiet  to  some  of  its 
friends  than  that  now  before  us.  The  former  repre- 
sent it,  as  a  declaration  in  the  highest  degree  tyran- 
nical, absurd,  and  unjust;  the  latter  read  it  with  con- 
cern and  terror,  and  are  apt  to  cry  out,  "  it  is  a  hard 
saying,  who  can  hear  it*  ?"  And  a  hard  saying  it  un- 
doubtedly is,  if  it  is  to  be  understood,  as  some  have  con- 
tended in  all  its  rigor.  But  it  is  not  easy  to  conceive  why 
we  are  to  be  bound  down  to  the  literal  meaning  in  this 
particular  passage  of  Scripture,  when  in  several  others 
of  the  same  nature  and  to  the  full  as  strongly  express- 
ed, we  depart  from  it  without  scruple.  No  man,  I 
suppose,  thinks  himself  obliged  to  "  give  (without  dis- 
*'  tinction  or  exception)  to  every  one  that  asks  him  ; 
"  to  pluck  out  his  right  eye,  or  cut  oif  his  right  arm  ; 
"  to  offer  his  coat  to  him  that  has  taken  away  his 
*'  cloak  ;  or,  when  his  enemy  smites  him  on  the  right 
"  cheek,  to  turn  to  him  the  other  alsof."  Yet  all  these 
things,  if  we  regard  the  mere  words  only,  are  com- 
manded in  the  Gospel.  We  all  hope  and  believe,  that 
it  is  possible  for  a  rich  man  to  be  saved,  and  for  a  great 
sinner  to  repent  and  amend  his  life.     But  looks  into 

•  John  vi.  60.     t  Luke  vi  30,     Matth.  v.  29.  30.  39.  40. 


SERMON    XV.  185 

the  Scriptures,  and  they  tell  you,  ''  that  it  is  easier  for 
<'  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for 
*'  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  ;"  and 
that,  if  "  a  leopard  can  change  his  spots,  and  an  Ethi- 
*'  opian  his  skin,  then  may  they  also  do  good  that  are 
"  accustomed  to  do  evil*."  These  expressions,  lit- 
erally taken,  imply  an  absolute  impossibility.  Yet  no 
interpreter,  I  believe,  ever  pretended  to  infer  from 
them,  any  thing  more  than  extreme  difficulty.  By  w  hat 
rule  of  criticism  then  are  we  obliged  to  understand  the 
text  more  strictly  than  the  passage  just  mentioned  ?  It 
certainly  stands  as  much  in  need  of  a  liberal  interpreta- 
tion, and  is  as  justly  entitled  to  it,  as  these  or  an}'^ 
other  places  of  holy  writ.  Consider  it  only  m  ith  a 
little  attention.  "  Whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole 
*'  law,  and  yet  offend  in  one  point  he  is  guilty  of  all." 
The  meaning  cannot  possibly  be,  that  he  who  offends 
in  oue  point  only,  docs  by  that  means  actually  offend  in 
<2// points;  for  this  is  a  palpable  contradiction.  Nor 
can  it  mean,  that  he  \vho  offends  in  one  point  onl}-,  is  in 
the  eye  of  God  equally  guilty,  and  of  course  will  in  a  fu- 
ture state  bo.  equally  punished,  with  him  who  offends  in 
all  points  :  for  this  is  evidently  false  and  unjust  ;  con- 
trary to  every  principle  of  reason  and  equity,  to  all  our 
ideas  of  God's  moral  attributes,  and  to  the  whole  tenor 
of  the  Gospel,  which  uniformly  teaches  a  directly  op- 
posite doctrine.  It  is  therefore  not  only  allowable,  it 
is  absolutely  necessary,  to  understand  the  proposition 
in»the  text  with  some  qualification.  The  only  ques- 
tion is,  what  this  qualification  shall  be.  It  is  a  ques- 
tion certainly  of  the  utmost  importance,  and  well  ^vor- 
thy  our  most  serious  attention.  It  is  not  a  matter  of 
nice,  and  curious,  and  unprofitable  speculation.  It  is 
a  point  in  which  we  are  all  most  deeply  interested,  and 
the  decision  of  it  must  be  of  great  moment  to  every 
moral  agent,  who  thinks  himself  bound  by  the  pre- 
cepts, or  looks  forward  to  the  rewards  of  the  Gospel. 

The  common  interpretation  of  the  text  is  this.     All 
the  laws  of  the  Christian  Revelation  are  Imuided  upon 

'  *  Matth.  xix.  24.     Jer.  >.m.  2.>. 

z 


186  SERMON  XV. 

one  and  the  snme  authority  of  God.  Therefore,  every 
offence  against  any  of  those  laws  is  a  contempt  of  the 
authority  upon  which  they  all  depend,  and  consequent- 
ly every  act  of  (iisobedience  is  a  breach  of  the  whole 
law,  because  subversive  of  that  authority  on  which  the 
whole  law  stands. 

But  to  this  interpretation  it  has  been  observed  tliat 
there  is  one  insuperable  objection.  It  is  evidently  lia- 
ble to  all  the  diiiiculties  of  the  stoical  paradox,  that  all 
oifences  are  equal.  For  if  the  guilt  of  sin  depends  not 
upon  the  nature  and  circumstances  of  the  sinful  action, 
but  upon  the  authority  of  the  lawgiver,  then  c^ery  sin 
being  an  offence  against  the  same  authority  is  of  the 
same  guilt  and  heinousness,  and  consequently  v.'ili  be 
subject  to  the  same  degree  of  punishment  in  a  future 
state  :  which  is  clearly  repugnant  to  every  idea  of  equi- 
ty and  justice,  and  (as  we  shall  see  hereafter)  to  the  ex- 
press declarations  of  holy  writ.  We  must  therefore 
look  to  some  other  explanation  of  this  confessedly  diffi- 
cult passage  more  consonant  to  reason  and  to  Scripture. 

Now  the  most  probable  way  of  arriving  at  the  true 
sense  of  it,  is,  I  conceive,  to  take  into  consideration  the 
whole  of  the  context,  the  persons  to  whom  the  Apos- 
tle's admonition  is  addressed,  the  particular  object  he 
"  had  in  view,  and  the  particular  doctrine  which  that  ob- 
ject required  him  to  establish. 

The  persons  to  whom  this  Epistle  of  St.  James  was 
addressed,  were,  as  he  himself  tells  us,  the  twehe  tribes 
that  vjei-e  scattered  abroad*  ;  that  is,  to  those  who  had 
been  converted  from  Judaism  to  Christianity,  and  who 
of  course  still  retained  several  of  their  old  Judaical  pre- 
judices. 

Some  of  these  Jewish  Christians  had,  it  seems,  been 
guilty  of  making  very  invidious  and  grating  distinc- 
tions between  the  rich  and  th.e  poor  in  their  religious 
assemblies  ;  had  treated  the  former  with  the  most  flat- 
tering marks  of  respect,  and  the  latter  with  harshness , 
and  contempt.  For  this  the  Aposde  in  the  verses  pre- 
ceding  the  text,  very  severely  reproves  them,  upbraids 

*  James  i.  1. 


SERMON  XV.  187 

them  with  the  gross  partiality  they  had  shown  on  this 
occasion,  and  tells  them,  thai  however  trivial  this  sort 
of  injustice  might  ai)[)ear  to  them,  it  was  in  fact  a  very 
serious  offence,  because  it  was  a  breach  of  the  great 
evangelical  law  of  charity,  which  forbids  every  kind  of 
insult  or  injury  to  our  poorer  brethren*.  "  If,  says  he 
you  fulfil  the  royal.law  according  to  the  Scripture,  (that 
is,  the  la\v  which  says,  then  shall  loi^e  thy  neighbor  as 
thyself  J  y  ye  do  well,  but  if  ye  have  respect  of  persons, 
ye  commit  sin,  and  arc  convinced  of  the  law  as  trans- 
gressors, transgressors  of  the  great  royal  law  of  Chris- 
tian charity  or  universal  love.  To  this  the  Jcwisii 
convert  would  have  an  answer  ready,  founded  on  a  re- 
ceived maxim,  of  his  former  religion.  For  the  Jews 
entertained  an  idea  that  the  reason  why  God  gave  them 
so  many  commandments  was,  that  by  keeping  any  one 
of  them  they  might  be  saved.  This  therefore  they 
would  urge  to  the  Apostle  in  their  o\vn  defence,  and 
w^ould  say — "  Admitting  that  we  have  oiTended  against 
the  law  of  Christ  in  one  instance,  yet  as  we  have  ob- 
served it  in  another  of  great  importance,  ^ve  shall  still 
be  entitled  to  the  pardon  of  our  sins,  and  the  rewards  of 
our  virtue  in  a  future  state."  A  doctrine  so  false  and 
pernicious  as  this,  St.  James  would  of  course  most 
strenuously  oppose,  and  would  naturally  express  his 
disapprobation  of  it  in  the  strongest  possible  terms  that 
language  could  supply.  No,  says  he,  so  far  is  it  from 
being  true,  that  the  observance  of  one  single  precept 
will  save  you,  that  the  direct  contrary  doctrine  is  the 
true  one.  "  For  whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law, 
and  yet  offend  in  one  point  he  is  guilty  of  all."  This  is 
undoubtedly  a  very  strong  expression,  but  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  the  case  called  for  it ;  and  it  must  be 
understood,   like   many  other   concise  and  proverbial 

"  St.  Austin  confines  the  Apostle's  meann\^  entirdy  and  exclusively  to  of- 
fences against  this  great  important  law  of  Christian  charity,  which  both 
lit.  James  and  St.  Paul  say  h  the  fiilf.Uing  of  the  law. 

Plcnitndo  legis  est  charitas,  ac  per  i\oc  qui  totam  legem  servaverit  si  in 
nno  oflenderit  tit  omnium  reus,  quia  contra  charitatem  facit  umle  tota  lex pen- 
<let.  Aujust.  op.  torn.  ii.  Ep.  29.  ad  Hieronymum.  Bishop  Sherlock 
takes  up  the  same  idea,  and  dilates  upon  it  with  great  ingenuity. — Disc,  v. 
j.  D.  13. 


188  SERMON  XV. 

maxims  of  the  same  sort,  with  considerable  aljatementg 
and  allowances  for  the  peculiar  idioms  and  phraseology 
of  the  times  and  the  countries  where  it  was  used,  and 
with  a  due  consideration  also  of  the  occasion  which 
drew  it  forth,  and  of  the  specific  object  which  the  speak- 
er had  in  view.  Now  his  object  evidently  was  to  con- 
vince the  Jewish  Christian  with  whom  lie  was  arguing, 
that  he  had  violated  in  one  material  instance,  the  great 
royal  law  of  charity  ;  that  this  was  a  very  heinous  of- 
fence, and  that  v.'hile  he  was  guilty  of  this  offence,  his 
observance  of  the  law  in  other  respects  would  avail  him 
nothing.  But  in  order  to  convince  him  of  this,  he  was 
not  obliged  to  go  to  the  length  of  asserting,  that  who- 
ever offended  in  one  point  was  in  fact  guilty  of  offend- 
ing in  all  points,  and  would  of  course  be  punished  here- 
after \\ith  the  same  severity  as  those  who  had  actually  of- 
fended in  all  points.  This  was  pushing  his  argument 
much  further  than  was  necessary  for  his  purpose.  All 
he  had  to  prove  was,  that  whoever  violated  the  divine 
law  in  any  one  important  point,  was  guilty  of  a  great 
sin,  and  if  that  sin  was  not  done  away  by  sincere  re- 
pentance, and  reliance  on  the  merits  of  Christ,  he 
would  assuredly  suffer  the  punishment  due  to  that  sin 
in  a  future  state,  notwithstanding  his  obedience  to  the 
law  in  all  other  instances.  This  v>'as  the  only  doctrine 
which  he  was  called  upon  and  which  lie  meant  to  es- 
tablish ;  and  in  fact  it  is  the  doctrine  which  he  does  es- 
tablish in  the  verse  immediately  following  the  text, 
which  clearly  explains  the  meaning  of  tlie  text  itself, 
and  by  the  illative  particle  for,  was  evidently  intended 
to  explaiii  it.  For,  (says  he,)  He  that  said,  do  not 
commit  adultery,  said  also,  do  not  kill  :  nov/,  if  thou 
commit  no  adulter}^  yet  if  thou  kill,  thou  art  become  a 
transgressor  of  the  hnv.  This  vis  all  that  he  asserts. 
But  if  it  had  been  his  intention  to  prove  that  he  who 
offended  in  one  point,  was,  strictly  speaking,  guilty  of 
offending  in  all  points,  his  conclusion  would  have  been 
very  different;  it  would  have  been  this.  If  thou  com- 
mit no  adultery,  yet  if  thou  kill,  thou  art  become  a  trans- 
gressor of  the  vJhok  hn\)^  in  every  branch  of  it.     But  he 


SERMON  XV.  189 

says  no  such  thing.  He  says  only,  tbou  art  become  a 
transgressor  of  the  Lto)  ;  and  must  consequently  expect 
the  punishment  due  to  that  transgression,  notwithstand- 
ing thy  observance  of  it  in  other  respects.  And  as  this 
verse  must  in  all  fair  construction  be  considered  as  a 
comment  on  the  text,  it  clearly  ascertains  the  meaning 
of  it  to  be  what  is  here  stated,  and  nothing  more.* 

From  this  examination  and  elucidation  of  the  pas- 
sage before  us,  the  following  conclusions  may  be  drawn. 

First,  that  the  offences  which  the  Apostle  had  in  view 
throughout  the  whole  of  his  reasoning,  and  of  which  he 
speaks  in  the  text,  were  offences  against  some  impor- 
tant branch  of  the  evangelical  law,  such  as  that  of 
Christian  charit}',  for  that  is  the  very  instance  which  he 
himself  specificsf. 

2d.  The  offences  he  alludes  to  are  not  casual  trans- 
gressions arising  from  ignorance,  inadvertence,  sur- 
prize, or  mere  human  infirmity,  but  wilful  and  pre- 
sumptuous sins  habitually  indulged^ .  For  that  viola- 
lation  of  Christian  charity  v.ith  w hich  St.  James  char- 

*The  truth  of  the  interpretation  here  given,  receives  great  confirmation 
from  some  remarks  lately  communicated  to  me  by  a  very  learned  and  in- 
genious friend  of  mine.  He  observes,  that  the  concluding  clauses  of  the 
9th,  10th,  and  11th  verses  of  the  2d  Chapter  of  St.  James,  (which  we 
have  been  here  considering)  must  necessarily  be  considered  as  Cfuivalent  to 
each  other.     These  three  verses  are  as  follows  : 

V.  9.  If  ye  have  respect  of  persons,  ye  commit  sin,  and  are  convinced  of 

■   the  law  an  transgressors. 
V.  10.  For,  whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in  one 

point,  be  is  giji(ty  of'  ail. 
V.  11.  For,  he  that  said.  Do  not  commit   adultery,  said  also.  Do  not 
kill.     Now  if  thou  commit  no  adultery,  yet  if  thou   kill,   thou  art 
become  a  transgressor  of  the  law. 
To  every  one  that  considers  these  three  verses   attentively,   as  connected 
with  each  other,  and  j)articularly  the  force  of  the  illative  particle  for,  in  the 
two  last,  it  will  be  evident  that  the  10th  is  meant  to  prove  the  truth  of  the 
9th,  and  the  11th  of  the  10th.     But  the  proof  entirely  fails,  and  the  10th  and 
11th  verses  are  left  without  meaning,  unless  the  clauses  in  each  verse,  which 
are  printed  in  italics,  were  intended  to  convey  precisely  the  satne    idea.     If 
this  be  admitted,  the  sense  affixed  to  the  te.\t,  in  this  discourse,   is   fully  es- 
tablished. 

t  Hoc  vult  Jacobus. — Si  quis  observato  rcliquo  Evangelio  prseceptum  unum 
in  re  magni  inoouc'  ti  ueg\)g:it  (quale  est  prxceptum  caritatis  quo  proximum 
ijoccre  ve'amur)  perinde  cjse  ac  si  alia  etiam  ncglecta  esseut.  Le  Clerc.  in  Loc. 
Offendat  in  uno  ;  ntmpe  eorum  quibus  poena  capitalis  constituta  est. 

Grotiws. 
\  Seeker's  Sermons,  vol.  vii-  s.  3-  p.  45, 


190  SERMON  XV. 

ges  the  Jewish  converts  appears  to  have  been  their  con- 
stant practice. 

3d.  That  although  he  who  offends  in  one  point  will 
not  be  deemed  equally  guilty,  or  be  subject  to  equal 
punishment  with  him  who  offends  in  all  points  ;  yet 
still  the  consequences  of  indulging  himseireven  in  o?ie 
favorite  sin  will  be  sufficiently  dreadful  to  deter  him 
from  such  a  practice,  and  to  induce  him  without  delay 
to  repent  and  reform.  If  he  does  not,  he  will  in  some 
material  respects  experience  the  same  consequences, 
and  be  treated  in  the  same  manner  as  if  he  had  been 
actually  guilty  of  offending  in  all  points. 

For  in  the  first  place,  he  will  be  excluded  from  those 
gk)rious  rewards  hereafter,  which,  through  the  merits 
of  our  Redeemer,  arc  promised  to  those  that  to  the  best 
of  their  power  pay  a  uniform  obedience  to  all  the  laws 
of  Christ.  The  gates  of  heaven  are  shut  against  every 
habitual  and  unexpiated  sin.  He  who  lives  and  dies 
in  the  constant  commission  of  any  one  presumptuous 
sin,  shall  have  no  more  title  to  a  future  recompence 
than  if  he  had  been  guilty  of  every  sin  ;  and  in  this 
sense,  by  offending  in  one  point,  he  may  not  improper- 
ly be  said  to  be  guilty  of  all ;  for  the  consequence  to 
him  with  regard  to  future  happiness,  will  be  the  same 
as  if  he  actually  had  been  so. 

In  the  next  place,  he  who  is  wilfully  and  habitually 
guilty  of  any  one  presumptuous  sin  will  be  certainly 
doomed  to  some  degree  of  future  punishment,  as  if  he 
had  transgressed  every  divine  command  instead  of  one. 
The  Scriptures  denounce  irihulation  and  anguish 
against  e'very  soul  of  man  that  cloetb  e'uii'^'.  This  indeed 
seems  the  natural  consequence  of  being  excluded  from 
reward.  For  in  our  Lord's  representation  of  the  last 
judgment,  there  are  but  two  classes  into  which  all  man- 
hind  are  divided,  the  wicked  and  the  good,  those  who 
are  punished  and  those  who  are  rewarded.  Between 
tliese  there  does  not  appear  to  be  any  middle  rank,  any 
Reutral  set  of  beings,  who  are  neither  punished  nor  re- 
ivarded.     The  sbecp  are  placed  on  the  right  hand,  and 

*  Rem.  ii.  9.  . 


SERMON  XV.  191 

tile  goats  on  the  left,  but  we  hear  of  none  who  have  at 
station  assigned  them  between  both.  They  who  da 
not  *' go  away  into  life  eternal,"  are  ordered  to  depart 
into  a  state  of  everlasting  punishment.  And  since  the 
offender  in  one  point,  cannot  be  among  the  first,  he 
must  necessarily  be  among  the  last.  In  this  then,  as 
well  as  in  the  loss  of  heaven,  he  shares  the  fate  of  him 
who  is  guilty  of  all. 

Thus  flir,  then,  the  partial  and  the  universal  sinner 
agree.     They  are  both  excluded  from  happiness  :  they 
are  both  sentenced  to  future  punishment.  But  here  the 
resemblance  between  them  ceases,  and  the  parallel  must 
be  pushed  no  further.     Here  begins  the  parting  point, 
the  line  of  separation,  between  the  two  cases.    Here  that 
limitation  of  the  text  takes  place,  which  common  jus- 
tice and  common  sense  require.     Though  the  offender 
in  one  point,  and  the  offender  in  all,  are  both  doomed 
to  punishment,   yet  it  is  by  no  means  to  equal  punish- 
ment.    It  may  be,  and  probably  is,  the  same  in  hin(U 
but  it  cannot  possibly   be  the  same  in  degree.     V.'c 
liave  every  assurance  which  reason   and    Scripture  can 
give,  that  the  future  sufferings  of  sinners  will  be  exact- 
ly suited  to  their  respective  crimes.     The  Judge  of  all 
the  earth  will  assuredly  do  right,  and  all  the  world  shall 
see  and  acknowledge  the  perfect  impartiality  of  his  pro- 
ceedings.    Proportionable  rewards   and  punishments, 
are  every  A\here  announced  in  the  Gospel  in  the  clear- 
est and  most  explicit  terms.     We  are  toM,  that  *'  some 
"  shall  be  beaten   witli   many  stripes,  and  sonie  \\\i\\ 
*'  few*,"  and  that  "  it  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  cer- 
"  tain  persons  in  the  day  of  judgment  than  for  othersf," 
who  shall  receive  "  a  greater  condemnation."     Who- 
ever therefore  thinks  himself  authorized  by  the  text  to 
go  on  from  sin  to  sin,   and  to  accumulate  one  crime 
upon  another,  from  a  presumption  that  he  shall  not  suf- 
fer more  for  offending  in  all  points  than  for  offending 
only  in  one  ;  and  that,  after  the  first  deviation  from  vir- 
tue, every  subsequent  vice  may  be  practised  with  im- 
•  punity,  will  find  himself  most  fatally  deceived.     As 

*  Lnke  xii:  4,  48>  f  Matt.  x.  \i. 


1D2  SERMON  XV. 

sure  as  God  is  just,  and  the  Gospel  is  true,  so  surely 
will  the  judgments  of  the  last  day  be  inflicted  on  all  im- 
penitent offenders,  not  promiscuously  and  indiscrimi- 
nately, but  in  weight  and  measure  precisely  balancing 
their  several  demerits.  And  although  from  the  text 
we  may  collect,  that  any  one  vice,  habitually  indulged, 
will  as  effectually  exclude  us  from  reward,  and  sub- 
ject us  to  punishment,  as  if  we  had  been  guilty  of  cuery 
vice  ;  yet  the  degrees  of  that  punishment  will  be  exact- 
ly proportioned  to  the  number  and  the  magnitude  of 
the  sins  we  have  committed. 

That  the  sense  here  given  to  St.  James'  words  is 
the  true  one,  must,  I  think,  be  allowed  by  every  one 
that  will  take  the  trouble  of  casting  his  eye  on  the  chap- 
ter from  whence  the  text  is  taken,  and  that  which  im- 
mediately precedes  it.  He  will  see  that  the  apostle's 
reasoning,  throughout  a  great  part  of  these  chapters, 
is  directed  against  that  most  dangerous  notion,  which 
the  heart  of  man  has  been  at  all  times  but  too  apt 
to  entertain,  and  which  the  Jews  more  especially,  car- 
ried to  a  most  extravagant  height,  that  imhersal  holi- 
ness of  life  is  not  necessary  to  salvation  ;  that  a  partial 
obedience  to  the  divine  law  is  sufficient  to  secure  both 
impunity  and  reward  ;  and,  that  many  virtues  will  cover 
and  excuse  one  favorite  vice.  This  was  the  error  which 
the  apostle  undertook  to  combat ;  and  in  order  to  do 
this,  it  was  not  (as  I  have  already  observed)  necessary 
for  him  to  prore,  that  he  who  offends  in  one  point  is, 
literally  and  strictly  speaking,  guilty  of  all.  This  was 
going  not  only  beyond  all  bounds  of  credibility  and  truth, 
but  beyond  every  thing  that  this  argument  required. 
All  that  this  naturally  led  him  to  prove  was,  that  no  i?n- 
penitent  offender^  even  though  he  offended  in  one  point  on- 
ly^ shoidd  either  obtain  reward  or  escape  punishment. 
Accordingly,  it  is  this  doctrine  which  he  endeavors 
throughout  the  whole  context  to  establish.  It  is  this 
which  he  lays  down  with  peculiar  emphasis  in  the  text ; 
it  is  this  which  he  inculcates  a  few  verses  before,  in 
words  nearly  as  forcible  as  those  in  the  text,  and  which 
will  assist  us  in  confirming  the  interpretation  here  giv- 


SERMON  XV.  193 

en  of  it.  The  words  I  mean  are  these  :  "If  any  man 
among  you,"  says  he,  "  seem  to  be  religious,  and 
*'  bridleth  not  his  tongue,  but  deceiveth  his  own  heart, 
'■^  that  mail's  religion  is  lia'in^.''^  Here,  you  see,  isa« 
specification  of  one  particular  point  (that  of  habitual 
eml-speaking^  in  all  the  worst  senses  of  that  word)  in 
which  lie  supposes  that  a  man,  in  other  respects. reli- 
gious and  unblameable,  offendsf.  And  what  does  he 
say  of  that  man  ?  Why,  that  his  religion  is  vain,  is  un- 
profitable, is  useless  to  him,  will  in  the  last  day  avail  him 
nothing,  will  neither  entitle  him  to  reward,  nor  exempt 
him  from  punishment.  When  therefore,  within  a  few 
verses  after  this,  he  resumes  the  argument,  and  says 
*'  Whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend 
*'  in  one  point,  he  is  guilty  of  all,"  who  can  have  any 
doubt  that  he  means  nothing  more  than  to  express,  in 
stronger  and  more  comprehensive  terms,  the  very  same 
doctrine  which  he  had  just  before  laid  down  with  re- 
gard to  one  particular  case  ?  The  clearness  of  the 
former  passage  reflects  light  on  the  obscurity  of  the  lat- 
ter; and  when  St.  James  says,  "Whosoever  shall 
"  keep  the  whole  law%  and  yet  offend  in  one  point,  he 
"  is  guilty  of  all,^^  it  is  exactly  the  siime  as  if  he  had 
said,  "  Whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet 
"  offend  in  one  point,  that  man''s  religion  is  vain  :"  wdll 
be  of  no  benefit  to  him  in  the  great  day  of  retribution. 
He  will  be  as  far  from  obtaining  either  impunity  or  re- 
\vard,  as  if  he  had  been  guilty  of  every  sin  instead  of 
onej. 

The  justness  of  this  explanation  will,  I  apprehend, 
appear  in  a  still  stronger  light,  if  we  try  it  (as  all  expla- 
nations of  Scripture  ought  to  be  tried)  by  considering 
in  one  view  the  whole  passage  from  whence  the  text  is 

*  James  i.'  26.  f-  See  Benson  in  Loc. 

\  There  is  a  vet-y  ingenious  conjecture  of  Baulacre's,  in  Wet- 
stein,  on  the  text  in  question,  James  ii.  10.  Instead  of  thQ  com- 
mon reading,  y.-yovs  7rx)irm  evo^e? ,  he  proposes  (with  a  very  small 
variation)  yeyovs  ttmtox;  iwy^t^  :  tliat  is,  he  is  undonbudhj  guihy,  he 
is  charl'j  a  transgressor  oi  the  law.  Just  as  it  is  said,  Acts  xxviii, 
4.  Tlccvru?  <pcvivi  ff-'v  e  tx,\6cM7ro?  yrcs  "  Ab  clottbt  this  man  is  a  mur- 
"  derer."   Could  tins  emendation  be  established,  it  would  certain- 

A  a 


194  SERMON  XV. 

taken,  and  then  subjoining  such  a  paraphrase  of  it  as 
the  meaning  here  affixed  to  St.  James'  words  requires. 
The  entire  context  is  as  follows  : 

"  If  ye  fulfil  the  royal  law,  according  to  the  scripture, 

"   THOU     SHALT      LOVE      THY      NEIGHBOR      AS    THY- 

*'  SELF,  ye  do  well  ;  but  if  ye  have  respect  to  persons, 
*'  ye  commit  sin,  and  are  convinced  of  the  law  as  trans- 
*'  gressors.  For  whosoever  shall  keep  the 
"  whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in  one  point, 
"he  is  guilty  of  all.  For  he  that  said,  Do  not 
*' commit  adultery,  said  also,  Do  not  kill.  Now,  if 
"  thou  commit  no  adultery,  yet  if  thou  kill,  thou  ait 
*'  become  a  transgressor  of  the  law.  So  speak  ye,  and 
"  so  do,  as  they  that  shall  be  judged  by  the  law  of  lib- 
"  erty.  For  he  shall  have  judgment  without  mercy, 
"  that  hath  shewed  no  mercy,  and  mercy  rejoiceth 
*'  against  judgment.'' 

If  the  principles  advanced  in  this  discourse  be  true, 
and  the  conclusions  just,  the  sense  of  this  very  obscure 
passage  will  be  what  is  here  subjoined. 

If  you  fulfil  the  great  law  of  loving  your  neigh- 
bor as  yourselves,  (which,  having  been  adopted, 
explained,  and  enforced  by  our  spiritual  sove- 
reign, Christ,  and  made  one  of  the  tu'o  great 
branches  of  his  religion,  may  be  justly  called  the  roy- 
al law)  ;  if,  I  say,  you  fulfil  this  law  in  all  its  vari- 
ous parts,  you  do  well.  But  if  you  shovv  such  an  un- 
charitable respect  of  persons  as  I  have  specified  above, 
you  thereby  violate  that  royal  law,  you  conmiit  a  great 
sin,  and  must  expect  the  punishment  due  to  that  sin. 
There  is  indeed,  I  know,  a  doctrine  prevalent  among 
you,  which  some  of  you  may  be  apt  to  think  will  se- 
cure you  from  this  punishment.  You  have  been  told 
by  your  Jevvdsh  instructors,  not  only  that  a  life  of  vir- 

ly  remove  all  diHicnlty.  But  it  is  not  supported  by  any  manu- 
script. And  I  doubt  iiiuch  whether  the  word  fvo;^;''*  is  ever  used 
by  any  gocd  writer,  &ing'v  and  absoliitchj  to  signify  guilty.  It  is 
eenei-ally  found  in  construction  with  some  noun  to  which  it  has 
a  reference,  and  by  which  its  sense  is  determined.  Thus  it  is 
said  Matt.  v.  21.  fvo;/ef  t;j  Kfta-ei  ;  and,  xxvi.  66.  evox^i  Sxvctrs  ;  and 
in  Demosthenes,  and  other  classical  writers,  w;^??  ran  vofM-.i,  Sec. 


SERMON  XV.  195 

tiie  in  general  ^^'ill  atone  for  the  habitual  practice  of  any- 
single  vice,  but,  that,  if  you  observed  punctually  any 
on  '■  great  precept  of  the  law,  and  violated  all  the  rest, 
It  should  be  well  with  you,  and  your  days  should  be 
prolonged,  and  you  should  possess  the  earth*.  You 
may  therefore  possibly  flatter  yourselves,  that  although 
you  do  perpetually  transgress  the  great  law  of  charity 
by  an  undue  respect  of  persons,  yet,  on  account  of 
your  obedience  to  the  moral  law  in  other  instances,  you 
will  not  only  escape  punishment,  but  obtain  reward. 
But  this  is  a  most  dangerous  and  delusive  notion.  It 
is  one  of  those  old  Judaical  prejudices  tliat  still  retain 
their  hold  upon  your  minds,  \a  here  they  have  been 
early  and  deeply  impressed  by  the  corrupt  traditions 
and  false  glosses  of  your  rabbinical  interpreters  of  the 
law.  But  be  not  deceived.  It  is  so  far  from  being 
true,  as  you  have  been  taught  to  think,  that  be  who  ob- 
.se?'ves  one  great  precept  of  the  law,  observes  the  whole, 
that  the  very  reverse  of  this  is  the  truth.  For  I  say 
unto  you,  that  whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole 

LAW,  AND  YET  OFFEND  IN  ONE  POINT,  HE  IS  GUIL- 
TY OF  ALL  ;  so  far,  I  mean,  guilty  of  all,  that  he 
shall  be  no  more  entitled  either  to  impunity  or  to  re- 
ward, than  if  he  had  transgressed  in  every  point,  in- 
stead of  one.     For  you  know  very  well,  that  '*  he 

"  WHO    SAID,      DO     NOT     COMMIT     ADULTERY,     SAID 

*'  ALSO,  DO  NOT  KILL."  Evcry  prcccpt  of  the  law 
proceeds  from  the  same  divine  lawgiver.  If  therefore 
"  you  commit  no  adultery,  yet  if  you  kill,"  if  you 
observe  one  command  and  break  another,  you  rebel 
against  that  divine  lawgiver,  you  plainly  become  a 
transgressor  of  his  law  in  one  instance,  and  must  con- 
sequently suffer  the  punishment  annexed  to  that  trans- 
gression, notu'ithstanding  the  punctuality  of  your  obe- 
dience in  all  other  instances.  This  perhaps  you  will 
think  a  hard  saying,  and  may  have  entertained  hopes 
that  you  should  experience  more  indulgent  treatment 
under  the  law  of  the  Gospel,  which  you  have  so  of- 
ten heard  emphatically  styled  the  law  of  liberty. 

•  See  Pocock  on  Hosea  xiv.  2.  p.  683  ;  and  Whitby  on  James  ii.  11. 


196  SERMON  XV. 

And  such,  in  many  important  senses,  it  certainly  is. 
It  has  delivered  you  from  the  heavy  yoke  of  ceremo- 
nial observances  ;  it  has  set  you  free  from  the  "  curse  of 
*'  the  law,  from  the  ministration  of  death,  from  the  letter 
*'  that  killeth,"  and  has  called  you  into  "  the  glorious 
*'  liberty  of  the  children  of  God*."  *'So  speak  ye, 
"  then,   AND  so  do  as  they  that  shall  undoubt- 

"  edly  BE   JUDGED    BY  THE  LAW   OF    LIBERTY."       But 

mistake  not  the  nature  of  this  liberty.  Do  not  fan- 
cy it  to  be  a  liberty  of  transgressing  any  precept  which 
you  find  it  difficult  to  observe.  Though  the  Gospel 
has  emancipated  you  from  the  slavery  of  the  ritual  law, 
yet  it  has  not  in  the  smallest  degree  released  you  from 
the  obligations  of  the  moral  law.  On  the  contrary,  it 
confirms  and  establishes  that  law*  Were  it  to  allow,  or 
even  connive  at,  the  indulgence  of  any  one  favorite 
passion,  it  would  be  a  law,  not  of  liberty ^  but  of  /z- 
centiousness.  It  will  not  therefore,  it  cannot,  suffer 
the  breach  even  of  one  single  divine  command  to  pass 
unpunished.        He,    consequently,    "  shall    have 

*'  JUDGMENT   without  MERCY,   THAT   HATH    SHEW- 

"  ED  NO  MERCY  :"  hc  that  transgresses  the  great  law 
of  mercy ^  or  Christian  charity,  shall  not,  on  account 
of  his  obedience  in  other  respects,  be  exempted  by  the 
"mercy  of  God  from  the  punishment  due  to  that  offence. 
But  if,  on  the  contrary,  he  uses  his  best  endeavors  to 
fulfil  every  precept  in  the  Gospel,  and  especially  that 
most  important  one  of  mercy ^  or  inmersal  loiie,  then 

shall    "   MERCY   REJOICE    AGAINST   JUDGMENT  :"    llis 

casual  transgressions  and  infirmities  shall  meet  with 
mercy  at  the  hand  of  his  Almighty  Judge ;  and  the 
same  compassion  shall  at  the  last  day  be  graciously  ex- 
tended to  him,  which  he  himself  has  shewn  to  his  oft 
fending  or  his  distressed  fellow-creatures. 

*  Gal.  iii.  13.    2  Cor.  iii,  7.    Rom.  viii.  21. 


SERMON  XVI. 


James,  ii.  10. 

Whosoever  shall  kecji  the  nvhole  laiv^  aiid  yet  offend  in  one  fiointf  he 
is  guilty  of  all. 

IT  has,  I  hope,  been  sufficiently  proved,  that  the 
interpretation  given  of  these  words,  in  the  prece- 
ding discourse,  is  not  arbitrary  and  conjectural ;  but 
grows  out  of  the  context  and  the  occasion,  and  is  con- 
formable to  the  the  whole  tenor  of  St.  James'  argu- 
ment, and  the  particular  object  he  had  in  view.  It 
makes  no  greater  abatement  in  the  apostle's  expres- 
sion, than  the  peculiar  ardor  and  energy  of  the  Scrip- 
ture language,  and  the  concise  sententiousness  of  pro- 
verbial maxims,  absolutely  require ;  no  greater  than 
is  authorized  by  the  soundest  rules  of  criticism,  and 
the  practice  of  the  soberest  expositors  in  many  similar 
instances.  At  the  same  time,  it  seems  to  stand  clear 
of  all  the  objections  which  have  been  usually  urged 
against  the  text.  It  leaves  no  room  to  charge  it  with 
extravagant  and  undistinguishing  severity,  and  the  doc- 
trine it  presents  to  us  is  confirmed  by  the  whole  tenor 
of  holy  writ. 

Every  one  in  the  least  conversant  with  Scripture 
must  know,  that  the  rewards  of  Christianity  are  there 
promised  to  those  only  \vho,  to  the  best  of  their  pow- 
er, endeavor  "  to  stand  perfect  and  complete  in  all  the 
"  will  of  God*;"  and  that  its  punishments  are  de- 
pounced   against  every   habitual  sin   of   every  kind, 

•  Col,  iv.  12. 


198  SERMON  XVI. 

without  any  exception  made  in  favor  of  those  who  of- 
fend in  one  point  only,  and  observe  all  the  rest*.  And 
as  this  is  the  universal  language  of  Scripture,  so  is  it 
perfectly  conformable  to  every  principle  of  reason,  jus- 
tice, and  equity. 

In  regard  to  a  future  recompence,  the  case  will  not 
admit  a  doubt.  Eternal  life  being  the  free  and  volun- 
tary gift  of  God,  he  may  certainly  give  it  on  whatever 
terms  he  thinks  fit  to  prescribe.  The  terms  he  has 
prescribed  are,  faith  hi  Christy  and  obedience  to  all  his 
la%vs.  Whoever  therefore  does  not  comply  with  the 
terms  required,  can  have  no  claim  to  the  favor  granted 
on  those  terms,  and  those  only.  Although  the  offend- 
er in  one  point  may  possibly  go  so  flu-  as  to  flatter  him- 
self that  he  shall  not  h^ punished  for  his  offence,  yet  he 
can  never  surel}^  expect  to  be  reivarded ioi  it.  It  would 
indeed  be  strange,  if  all  who  had  only  one  favorite  vice 
should  be  admitted  to  a  state  of  felicity  hereafter.  For, 
since  different  m.en are,  by  their  different  inclinations,  led 
to  transgress  in  different  ways,  it  must  by  this  means 
come  to  pass,  that  sinners  of  every  denomination  would 
find  their  w'ay  to  heaven.  And  thus,  instead  of  meet- 
ing there,  as  we  are  taught  to  expect,  with  *'  the  spir- 
*'  its  of  just  men  made  perfectf ,"  and  an  illustrious  as- 
assembly  of  saints  and  angels,  we  should  find  ourselves 
surrounded,  in  the  very  mansions  of  bliss,  with  such 
sort  of  company  as  we  should  be  ashamed  to  be  seen  in 
upon  earth. 

Nothing  therefore  can  be  more  undeniably  reasona- 
ble and  just,  than  that  the  habitual  transgressor  of  any 
one  divine  command,  should  be  excluded  from  future 
happiness.  Yet  still  perhaps  it  may  be  thought  hard, 
that  he  should  be  doomed  to  future  misery.  There  is 
scarce  any  thing  we  are  apt  to  think  so  reasonable,  and 
so  natural,  as  that  a  number  of  good  qualities  should 
atone  for  one  bad  habit,  and  shelter  us  from  punish- 
ment, at  least,  if  not  entitle  us  to  reward.  Yet  why 
should  we  expect  this  from  the  Gospel  dispensation, 
when  in  the  ordinary  course  of  God's  providence  we 

*  Rora.  il.  9.  f  Heb.  xii.  23. 


SERMON  XVr.  199 

find  it  quite  otherwise  ?  How  often  do  we  see,  in  the 
affairs  of  this  world,  not  only  that  one  habitual  vice, 
but  that  0J2C  sifiglc  luroiig  action,  will,  in  spite  of  a  thou- 
sand excellencies,  draw  after  it  the  ruin  of  fortune, 
fame,  and  every  earthly  comfort  ?  The  case  is  the  same 
in  the  oeconomy  of  nature,  and  the  artificial  insii- 
tutions  of  civil  society.  The  health  of  the  human 
body  is  the  result  of  perfect  order  in  every  part.  If 
the  slightest  member  be  indisposed,  it  disturbs  the 
ease  of  the  whole,  and  *'  every  member  suflers  with  it." 
In  the  body  politic  a  complete  obedience  to  the  laws 
is  the  only  title  to  the  protection  of  the  state  ;  and  a 
single  crime,  notwithstanding  all  our  other  services, 
will  render  us  obnoxious  to  its  punishments.  Add  to 
this,  that  in  all  compacts  and  covenants  which  we  enter 
into  with  one  another,  concerning  our  worldly  affairs, 
the  breach  of  any  one  essential  condition  vacates  the 
covenant,  and  deprives  us  of  all  die  benefits  we  claim 
under  it.  No^v,  the  tide  we  have  to  everlasting  hap- 
piness hereafter  is  founded  solely,  not  on  the  precari- 
ous ground  of  our  own  imperfect  services  ;  for  "  we 
"  are  all  unprofitable  servants*  ;"  but  on  the  sure  basis 
of  that  efficacious  covenant,  which  was  made  between 
God  and  us  through  the  mediation  of  our  Redeem- 
er, and  which  he  sealed  with  his  own  blood  upon  the 
cross.  All  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel  are  so  many  con- 
ditions of  this  covenant,  which  we  have  promised,  and 
which  we  are  bound  to  observe.  If  therefore  we  wil- 
fully and  habitually  violate  any  one  of  these  conditions, 
though  we  religiously  observe  all  the  rest,  we  evacuate 
the  covenant,  we  forfeit  our  federal  right  (the  only 
right  we  have)  to  the  pardon  of  our  sins,  and  conse- 
quendy  lay  ourselves  open  again  to  the  punishment 
that  is  naturally  due  to  them.  Where  then  can  be  the 
ground  for  complaining  of  severity  in  this  respect  ? 
What  pretence  can  we  have  for  murmuring  at  our 
Judge,  if  he  observes  the  same  measures  of  justice 
in  the  next  world,  which  the  general  course  of  his  pro- 
Tidence  in  this  gives  us  reason  to  expect  ;  if  he  treats 

•  Luke  XV ii.  10. 


200  SERMON  XVL 

us,  in  a  future  state,  with  no  greater  rigor  than  we  our^- 
selves,  in  our  most  important  concerns,  think  it  equi- 
table and  prudent  to  exercise  towards  each  other  ? 

But  will  not  God  then  judge  us  in  mercy  ?  Will  he 
have  no  compassion  on  human  infirmity  ?  Will  he  be 
extreme  to  mark  and  to  punish  every  thing  that  is  done 
amiss,  notwithstanding  the  punctuality  of  our  obedience 
in  all  other  respects  ? 

That  God  will  judge  us  in  mercy  there  can  be  no 
doubt  ;  what,  alas !  would  become  of  the  very  best  of 
us,  if  he  did  not  ?  But  that  he  will  suifer  his  mercy  to 
annihilate  his  justice,  by  allowing  any  one  of  his  laws 
to  be  insulted  with  impunity,  is  what  no  reasonable 
man  can  possibly  suppose.  We  need  not  be  much 
afraid  of  leaving  no  room  for  the  exercise  of  mercy. 
After  we  have  done  all  we  can,  after  we  have  kept  the 
whole  law,  without  exception,  with  all  the  care  and 
punctuality  we  are  able  ;  there  will  be  still  enough  left 
for  God  to  pardon,  and  the  most  perfect  of  us  will 
have  abundant  occasion  for  the  utmost  display  of  his 
clemency  towards  us.  In  our  observance  of  e'uery  law, 
there  will  be  innumerable  defects  and  errors,  vv^hich 
are  the  proper  objects  of  divine  com.passion.  These 
he  has  promised  to  forgive,  on  our  sincere  repentance,, 
for  the  sake  and  throuQ-h  the  merits  of  Christ  Jesus ; 
and  on  the  same  grounds  we  have  good  reason  to  hope 
that  great  allowance  will  be  made  for  such  failings  and 
infirmities  as  we  watch  and  strive  and  pray  against,  and 
persevere  in  opposing.  But  Vv^e  must  not  expect  the 
same  mercy  to  be  extended  to  any  wilful  and  presump- 
tuous transgression,  if  habitually  persisted  in,  without 
repentance  and  reformation.  And  even  with  regard  to 
our  best  virtues,  if  they  can,  with  all  their  own  blem- 
ishes, obtain  acceptance  through  the  intercession  of 
our  Redeemer,  they  do  full  as  much  as  we  have  any 
reason  to  expect  from  them.  They  have  no  supera- 
bundant merit  of  their  own ;  and  can  therefore  have 
none  to  spare  for  other  purposes,  to  serve  as  a  covering' 
for  some  favorite  sin. 


SERMON  XVI.  201 

The  result  then  of  the  whole  is,  that  the  only  sure 
ground  of  admission  to  heaven,  and  of  security  ac^ainst 
future  punishment,  is  reliance  on  the  merits  of  our 
Redeemer,  and  an  unreserved  (though  too  often,  God 
knows,  imperfect)  obedience  to  e'l^ery  precept  in  tiie 
Gospel.  There  is  indeed  always,  owe  which  ue  lind  it 
more  difficult  to  obser\'e  that  the  rest,  and  \^•hich  for 
that  reason  we  are  very  desirous  not  to  observe  at  all. 
But  if  we  are  in  earnest  about  our  everlasting  welfare, 
our  obedience  in  this  point  also,  however  painful,  is 
indispensably  necessary.  It  is  that  cross  which  we  are 
ordered  to  take  up  when  we  are  commanded  to  follow 
Christ.  It  is  the  yoke  he  imposes  upon  us,  the  bur- 
den he  recjuires  us  to  bear.  To  decline  this,  is  at 
once  to  reject  the  terms  of  our  salvation,  and  to  for- 
feit  all  pretensions  to  divine  favor.  It  is  to  no  purpose 
to  urge  the  exactness  of  our  obedience  in  other  instan- 
ces. Our  good  deeds  can  be  no  othervvise  acceptable 
in  the  sight  of  God,  than  as  they  flow  from  a  principle 
of  love  to  him,  and  obedience  to  his  laws,  as  revealed 
to  us  in  the  Gospel  of  his  blessed  Son.  But  if  v»-e 
constandy  transgress  these  laws  in  any  one  important 
point,  it  is  im]:)0ssible  that  our  observance  of  the  rest 
should  proceed  from  any  religious  motive.  If  such  a 
motive  influenced  us  in  some  points,  it  would  influence 
us  in  e'-uery  point,  and  would  never  allow  us,  in  any  in- 
stance, to  persist  in  a  direct  opposition  to  the  com- 
mands of  the  God  we  loved.  The  love  of  ourselves, 
the  love  of  power,  of  praise,  of  pleasure,  of  gain,  may 
in  many  cases  lead  us  to  \irtue  ;  and  it  will  be  evident 
that  we  f  )llov.ed  no  worthier  guides,  if,  when  they 
lead  us  to  \ice,  we  follovithcm  v>ithout  reluctance,  and 
are  as  ready  to  break  any  of  God's  law  s  at  their  sug- 
gestion, as  to  observe  them. 

Let  us  bring  this  matter  home  to  our  own  l:)Osoms, 
let  us  judge  from  our  own  sentiments  and  feelings  on 
similar  occasions.  Should  we  think  that  man  a  sincere 
\Y\i^\Y\  to  us,  who,  \\\\Qxc  it  coincided  with  his  natural 
propensities,  where  it  flattered  his  \anity  or  indulged 

Bb 


202  SERMON  XVI. 

his  pride,  where  it  served  his  ambition  or  promotecf 
his  interest,  would  very  readily  show  us  any  mark  of 
kindness  and  regard ;  but,  where  it  thwarted  any  of 
these  views,  would  most  shamefully  desert  us,  although 
in  the  utmost  need  of  his  assistance  ?  Or,  should  we 
think  that  servant  worthy  of  his  hire,  and  of  our  fa- 
vor, who,  although  in  other  points  he  behaved  well, 
yet  in  one  material  part  of  his  business,  where  his  ser- 
vice was  most  necessary,  and  most  acceptable  to  us, 
acted  in  direct  opposition  to  our  express  orders  ?  Should 
we  not  call  the  one  a  deceitful  friend,  and  the  other  a 
worthless  servant,  and  renounce  them  both,  with  the 
contempt  and  indignation  they  deserved  ?  And  how 
then  can  we  imagine  that  God  will  accept  such  a  service 
at  our  hands,  as  the  meanest  man  amongst  us  w^ould 
tliink  an  insult  upon  him  ?  How  can  we  suppose  that 
he  w  ill  be  content  with  the  leavings  of  our  passions  ; 
will  be  satisfied  with  our  observance  of  those  laws 
which  we  have  not  perhaps  the  least  inclination  or 
temptation  to  transgress  ;  and  overlook  our  disobedi- 
ence in  that  only  pomt  where  we  can  show  the  sincerity 
of  our  attachment  to  him  ;  ^vhere  our  passions  and  our 
interests  interfere  with  our  duty,  and  strongly  prompt 
us  to  rebel  against  our  Maker  ? 

"  Let  then  every  one  that  names  the  name  of  Christ 
"  depart  from  iniquity*"  of  every  kind.  Let  him 
"  eschew  his  own  peculiar  wickedness.'*  Let  him 
take  a  resolution  of  immediately  repenting  of  and  re- 
linquishing that  favorite  sin  which  does  most  easily  be- 
set him ;  and  if  his  repentance  is  sincere,  and  his  re- 
formation effectual,  his  past  offences  ^viil  for  the  sake, 
and  through  the  merits  of  Christ  (who  came  into  the 
world  for  the  very  purpose  of  saving  sinners)  be  for- 
given and  blotted  out ;  and  he  will  be  restored  to  the 
favor  of  God,  and  received  into  the  arms  of  his  mercy. 
But  if  on  the  contrary  he  wilfully  and  obstinately  per- 
sists through  life  in  any  one  presumptuous  and  habitual 
bin,  he  will  be  as  effectually  excluded  from  reward,  and 

*  2  Tim.  ii.  1-1. 


SERMON  XVI.  203 

subjected  to  some  degree  of  luinibhment,  as  if  he  had  of- 
fended in  lill  points  instead  of  one. 

This  is  die  true,  the  genuine  doctrine  of  holy  writ. 
The  doctrine  of  the  world,  I  know,  is  of  a  very  differ- 
ent complexion  ;   and  we  have  been  favored  with  sys- 
tems of  morality,    and  plans  of  education,   of  a  much 
more  compliant,  and  commodious,  and  indulgent  tem- 
per*.    The  substance  of  them  is  comprized   in  a  few 
Mords;   "  adulation  to  those  we  despise,  courtesy  to 
"  those  we  hate,  connections  without  friendship,  pro- 
"  fessions  without  meaning,  good  humor  without  be- 
*'  nevolence,   good    manners  \\ithout  morals,  appear- 
*'  ances  saved  and  realities  sacrificed."    These  are  the 
maxims  which  are  now  to  enlighten  and  improve  man- 
kind ;  and  as  they  come  recommended  with  every  ad- 
vantage that  wit,  and  ease,  and  elegance  of  composition, 
can  give  them,  there  is  but  too  much  reason  to  appre- 
hend that  a   large  part   of  the  rising  generation   will 
receive  these  oracles  with  implicit  faith^  and  consider 
tlieir  authority  as  sovereign  and  supreme  in  some  of  the 
most  essential  articles  of  moral  conduct.   The  times  did 
not  seem  to  call  for  any  new  encouragements  to  licen- 
tiousness.  But  what  else  can  be  expected,  when  (as  the 
prophet  complains)  "  men  forsake  the  fountain  of  liv- 
"  ing  water,  and  hew  them  out  cisterns,  broken  cisterns, 
*•  that  can  hold  no  waterf  ;"  when,  deserting  the  plain 
road  of  moral  rectitude  which  Revelation  sets  before 
them,  they  strike  out  into  devious  and  crooked  paths, 
and  form  a  fanciful  system  of  their  own,  in  which  every 
thing  is  modelled  exactly  to  their  mind  ;  in  which  vi- 
ces are  transformed  into  virtues,  and  virtues  into  vices, 
just  as  it  happens  to  suit  their  particular  taste  and  con- 
venience ?  Can  there  possibly  be  a  more  convincing 
proof  of  the  utter  inability  of  hunian  Avisdom,  even  in 
its  most  improved  and  exalted  state,  to  undertake  the 
direction  of  our  moral  behavior,  and  the  absolute   ne- 
cessity of  light  from  above  to  guide  our  steps  aright, 

*  The  well-known  letters,  of  a  deceased  nobleman  to  his  son,  were  puL- 
lished  a  few  months  before  this  Ecmnon  was  ])reached  at  St.  James'. 
•J-  Jeremiah  ii.  13. 


204  SERMON  XVI. 

even  In  what  we  are  pleased  to  call  this  enlightened 
age  ?  Can  any  thing  more  clearly  show  the  infinite 
obligations  we  are  under  to  Christianity,  for  taking 
this  important  business  out  of  the  hands  of  man,  and 
placing  it  in  the  hands  of  God  ;  for  marking  out  to  us 
one  straight  undeviating  line  of  conduct,  and  forbid- 
ding us,  under  the  severest  penalties,  to  turn  aside 
from  it  "  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the  left  ?"  Who  does 
not  now  see  the  wisdom,  the  reasonableness,  the  utility 
of  the  doctrine  in  the  text,  that  "  whosoever  shall  keep 
"the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in  one  point,  he  is 
"  guilty  of  all  ?"  Who  does  not  see,  that  to  recede  one 
tittle  from,  the  true  meaning  of  this  declaration,  is  to 
open  a  door  for  the  admission  of  every  imaginable  in- 
iquity ?  When  once  we  begin  to  question  the  necessi- 
ty of  imi'versa/  holiness  ;  a^  hen  once  we  begin  to  make 
laws  for  ourselves,  and  to  determine  peremptorily  that 
this  virtue  is  illiberal,  and  that  impracticable,  this  vice 
a  pardonable  frailty,  and  that  a  necessary  accomplish- 
ment, it  is  easy  to  perceive,  that  there  must  soon  be 
an  end  of  all  distinction  between  right  and  wrong. 
If  one  man,  for  instance,  tliinks  that  adultery  and  hy- 
pocrisy are  in  certain  circumstances,  and  on  certain  oc- 
casions allov/able  ;  w  by  may  not  another  claim  the  like 
indulgence  for  anger,  pride,  ambition,  or  revenge,  and 
rank  them  also  in  the  number  of  genteel  and  reputable 
vices  ?  There  is,  in  fact,  hardly  a  crime  in  nature 
which  has  not  somewhere  or  other  a  patron  and  de- 
fender. And  thus,  if  every  man,  instead  of  eschewing 
his  own  peculiar  wickedness,  is  to  have  an  exemption 
granted  him  from  every  restraint  \vhich  he  happens  to 
think  inconvenient,  the  duties  of  religion  will  be  all 
picked  cut  of  the  gospel  one  by  one,  till  there  is  not 
a  single  virtue  left,  w  hich  may  not  be  evaded  whene- 
ver we  think  fit. 

This  instance  then,  among  a  thousand  others,  may 
serve  to  convince  us,  how  dangerous  it  would  be  to  al- 
low the  smallest  latitude  in  the  terms  ar.d  measures  of 
pbedience ;  and  how  necessary  it  is  for  those,  who  ar^ 


SERMON    XVI.  205 

the  appointed  guardians  of  evangelical  truth,  to 
natch  over  it  with  unremitted  vigilance. ;  and  on  no 
account  to  lower  the  sublime  tone  of  Gospel  morali- 
ty, in  order  to  make  it  speak  a  softer  language,  and 
accommodate  it  to  the  fanciful  conceits  and  corrupt 
casuistry  of  \\ orldly  wisdom.  Men  may  undoubtedly 
act  by  \\  hatever  rule  they  please  ;  but  the  rule  by 
w  liicli  they  will  be  judged  is  that  of  the  gospel  ;  and 
all  that  %vc  can  do  is  to  lay  it  plainly  and  fiirly  before 
them,  and  warn  them  loudly  of  the  danger  of  following 
any  other  guide.  They  may  ftncy,  if  they  will,  that 
improved  and  elevated  minds  are  above  ijulgar  re- 
straints;  that  what  is  vice  in  a  low  station,  by  ascend- 
ing into  a  superior  region,  leaves  its  dregs  behind,  and 
is  sublimated  into  virtue  ;  that  dissimulation,  though 
a  base  coin,  is  a  necessary  one-  ;  and  that  the  grossest 
irregularities,  \\  hen  ihey  help  to  embellish  our  man- 
ners, are  not  vices  of  the  heart,  but  little  infirmities  of 
youth,  which  are  sure  to  meet  with  indulgence  here, 
and  impunity  hereafter.  If  men  of  ingenuity  chuse  to 
amuse  themselves  with  such  imaj^inations  as  these  ; 
and  if  others  think  it  prudent  to  take  them  for  their 
guide  rather  than  God^  they  must  do  it  at  their  own 
peril.  But  they  w'ho  pretend  to  any  principle,  or  any 
religion,  will  do  \A'ell  to  remember,  that  He  who  has 
the  sole  right  of  regulating  our  conduct,  and  who  alone 
can  inform  us  on  what  terms  he  will  receive  or  reject 
us  for  ever.  He  has  prescribed  to  us  a  very  diiferent 
course  of  behavior.  He  requires  from  us,  not  merely 
the  appearance^  but  the  reality  ;  not  the  "  form  only, 
"  but  the  povrer  of  godliness."  He  holds  out  the  same 
rule  of  life  to  high  and  low,  to  rich  and  poor  :  "  He  re- 
*'  gardeth  not  the  persons  of  men  ;"  and  if  he  has  gi- 
ven any  onehum.an  being  ''  a  licence  to  sin,"  let  that 
licence  be  produced.  He  commands  us  not  to  con- 
form to  a  corrupt  world,  not  to  flatter  and  dissemble^ 
m  order  to  please  and  deceive  all  mankind,  but,  "in 

*  A  heathen  vnr,\-z\\!,t  was,  however,  it  seems  of  a  different  opinion.     Ex 
omni  vita  simulatio  &.  dissimulatio  tollsnda  est,     Cic  De  Off.  1.  iii.  c.  15. 


206  SERMON   XVI. 

"  SIMPLICITY   AND     GODLY   SINCERITY    tO    haVC  OUF 

"conversation  in  the  world*."  What  5i97?7^  call  par- 
donable infirmities,  He  calls  vices  of  the  heart ;  and 
plainly  tells  us  that  they  defile  the  man\.  And  to  cut 
off  all  hopes  of  indulgence  to  any  favorite  sin.  even 
though  surrounded  with  a  constellation  of  virtues,  he 
declares,  that  "whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law, 
^'  and  yet  offend  in  one  point,  he  is  guilty  of  all." 

*  2  Cor.  i.  12.  t  Matth.  xv.  IS. 


SERMON  XVII. 


Luke  iv.   17,   18,   19,  20. 

^ind  there  Tcas  delivered  unto  him  the  book-  of  the  profihet  Esaias  i 
and  ivhen  he  had  ofiened  the  book.,  he  found  the  ^dace  ivhere  it 
•was  written^ 

The  spirit  of  the  Lord  is  ji/ion  ;«e,  because  he  hath  anovited  me  to 
jireach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor  ;  he  hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  bro- 
ken-hearted., to  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives.,  and  re- 
covering of  sight  to  the  blind  ;  to  set  at  liberty  them  that  are 
bruised^ 

To  preach  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord. 

,ind  he  closed  the  book.,  and  he  gave  it  again  to  the  7?iinister,  and  sat 
doivn  I  and  the  eyes  <f  all  them  that  were  in  the  sijnagogue  xvere 
fastened  on  him.  , 

IfN  this  manner  did  our  gracious  Redeemer  open  his 
A.  divine  commission  ;  with  a  dignity  and  a  tender- 
ness, both  of  language  and  of  sentimenty  which  we 
shall  in  vain  lock  for  in  any  other  public  teacher  of  reli- 
gion. We  may  easily  conceive  that  after  he  had  ut- 
tered this  noble  prophecy,  "  the  eyes  of  all  them  that 
*'  were  in  the  synagogue"  would  be  "fistencdonhim." 
"•  They  all  immediately  bare  him  witness,  and  wonder- 
"  ed  at  the  gracious  words  that  proceeded  out  of  his 
"  mouth*."  This  admiration  indeed  of  theirs  sooa 
gave  way  to  far  otiier  emotions,  and,  in  consequence 
of  the  just  reproof  they  recci^ed  from  him,  for  their 
perverse  and  senseless  prepossessions  against  liini 
*'  they  were  fdlcd  with  wrath,  and  thiui,t  him  out  of 
*  Luke  iv.  20,  2::. 


208  SERMON  XVII. 

their  city*^."  But  we,  who  have  no  such  prejudices 
and  passions  as  theirs  to  mislead  our  judgments  and 
overpower  our  natural  feelings,  must  necessarily  be 
filled  with  love  and  reverence  towards  him,  when  we 
read  that  sublime  and  affecting  declaration  of  his  in- 
tentions, which  is  conveved  in  the  words  of  the  text. 
We  cannot  but  perceive  that  "  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
*'  was  indeed  upon  him,"  and  that  he  was  in  truth  the 
person  to  whom  the  passage  in  Isaiah,  which  he  re- 
cited, evidently  referied.  We  know  that  our  Lord 
most  completely  verified  the  words  of  the  prophet, 
both  in  their  literal  and  their  spiritual  meaning.  He 
preached  the  Gospel  to  the  poor  in  fortune,  the  poor 
in  spirit,  and  the  poor  in  religious  knowledge.  He 
healed  the  broken-liearted  ;  he  raised  and  comforted 
those  that  «vere  oppressed  with  calamity,  with  disease, 
and  with  sin.  To  him  that  was  bowed  do^vn,  with  in- 
firmity either  of  body  or  of  soul,  his  language  was, 
'' Son,  be  of  good  cheer,  thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee  ; 
"  go  in  peace,  and  sin  no  more."  *'  He  strengthened 
"  the  weak  hands,  and  confirmed  the  feeble  knees  ; 
"  he  said  to  them  that  were  of  a  fearful  heart.  Be 
"  strong,  fear  not,  behold  your  God  will  come.  He 
"  will  come,  and  save  youf."  "  He  gave  sight  also  to 
"  the  blind  ;"  he  removed  the  film  from  the  mental,  as 
well  as  from  the  corporeal  eye  ;  and  to  those  thr.t  "  sat 
"  in  darkness,  and  in  the  shadow  of  death,"  he  dis- 
closed at  once  the  cheerful  light  of  day,  and  the  still 
more  glorious  light  of  divine  truth.  "  To  the  cap- 
"  tives,"  to  them  that  were  "  bruised,  he  preached 
"  deliverance."  He  preached  a  doctrine  which  not 
only  released  from  spiritual  bondage  those  that  had 
been  enthralled  and  led  captive  by  their  sins,  but  so  sof- 
tened and  subdued  the  most  ferocious  minds,  and  dif- 
fused throughout  the  earth  such  a  spirit  of  mildness, 
gentleness,  mercy,  and  humanity,  that  the  heavy 
chains  of  personal  slavery  were  gradually  broken  in 
most  parts  of  the   Christian  world  ;  and  they  that  had 

*  Luke  iv.  2S,  29.  f  Isaiah  xxxv.  3,.  4, 


SERMON  XVII.  209 

been  for  so  many  ages  bruised  by  the  cruel  and  oppres- 
sive hand  of  pagan  masters,  were  at  length  set  free. 

Thns  did  our  blessed  Lord  accomplish  what  the  pro- 
phet foretold,  and  what  he,  by  the  inspiration  of  that 
"  spirit  which  was  upon  him,"  so  expliciUy  applied 
to  himself.  It  is  therefore  evidently  incumbent  on 
those  who  are  the  appointed  teachers  of  his  religion,  and 
more  especially  on  that  venerable  society,  whose 
professed  design  and  province  is  the  propagation 
OF  HIS  GOSPEL  IN  FOREIGN  PARTS,  to  trcad  as  near- 
ly as  tlicy  can  in  the  steps  of  their  heavenly  Master,  and 
carry  on,  to  the  best, of  their  abilities,  that  gracious  and 
benevolent  work  which  he  begun.  It  was  plainly  one 
great  purpose  of  his  life  to  relieve  misery  of  ever  kind, 
and  under  every  shape  ;  and  his  chief  attention  was, 
asrrceablv  tohis  declaration  in  the  text,  bestowed  on 
the  most  indigent,  the  most  ignorant,  the  most  help- 
less, and  the  most  wretched  of  the  human  species. 
Too  many  there  are,  God  knows,  in  every  quarter  of 
the  unenlightened  world,  who  stand  in  need  of  our 
compassionate  assistance  towards  the  relief  of  their 
Avants,  both  temporal  and  spiritual  ;  and  it  is  a  most 
melancholy  consideration,  that  so  large  a  part  of  the 
habitable  globe  continues  still  unacquainted  with  the 
blessings  of  true  religion.  But  there  is  one  class  of 
our  fellow-creatures  which  has  such  distinguished 
pre-eminence  in  misery  of  almost  every  kind,  and 
which  so  exactly  corresponds  to  all  that  variety  of 
wretchedness  enumerated  in  the  text,  that  one  would 
almost  be  tempted  to  think  our  Saviour  actually  alki- 
ded  to  them,  and  had  their  case  among  the  other  great 
events  of  futurity,  in  his  eye.  For  when  he  speaks 
of  the  "  poor,  the  broken-hearted,  the  blind,  the  cap- 
"  tive,  the  bruised,"  who  can  forbear  thinking  on  that 
unhappy  race  of  beings,  the  African  Slaves 
in  our  West  Indian  Colonies  ?  If  there  are  any  hu- 
man creatures  in  the  world  ^vho  concentrate  in  them- 
selves every  species  of  evil  here  enumerated,  who  are 
at  once  poor,  and  broken-hearted,  and  blind,  and  cap- 
tive,   and  bruised,   our  Negro-slaves  are  beyond  all 


210  SERMON  XVII. 

comparison  those  creatures.  Even  in  a  literal  sensey* 
this  description  is  in  several  circumstances  a  just  pic- 
ture of  their  situation  ;  but,  in  a  figurative  and  spiritual 
meaning,  it  may,  ^vith  the  strictest  truth,  be  applied  to 
them.  They  are  in  general  considered  as  mere  ma- 
chines and  instruments  to  work  with,  as  having  neither 
understandings  to  be  cultivated  nor  souls  to  be  saved. 
To  the  greater  part,  not  so  much  as  the  mere  cere- 
mony of  baptism  is  administered  ;  and  scarce  any  en- 
joy sufficient  leisure  or  assistance  for  a  proper  degree 
of  instruction  in  the  doctrines  and  the  duties  of  reli- 
gion. Sunday  is  indeed  a  day  which  they  are  generally 
indulged  with  for  their  own  use  ;  but  they  spend  it 
commonly,  not  in  attending  public  worship,  or  re- 
ceiving private  instruction,  but  in  visiting  and  traf- 
ficking v;ith  eac  hother,  or  in  cultivating  their  own  little 
allotments  of  land,  for  which,  except  in  one  island,  that 
of  Jamaica,  they  have  seldom  any  other  time  allowed 
them.*  Thus  it  comes  to  pass,  that  in  the  British  islands 
alone  there  are  upwards  of  four  hundred  thousand  human 
beingsf,  of  whom  m.uch  the  greatest  part  live  most  liter- 
ally without  God  in  the  world  ;  without  any  knowledge 
of  a  Creator  or  Redeemer ;  without  any  one  principle 
either  of  natural  or  revealed  religion  ;  without  the  idea 
of  one  moral  duty,  except  that  of  performing  their  dai- 
ly task,  and  escaping  the  scourge  that  constantly  hangs 
over  them.  The  consequence  is,  that  they  are  hea- 
thens, not  only  in  their  hearts,  but  in  their  lives,  and 
knowing  no  distinction  between  vice  and  virtue,  they 
give  themselves  up  freely  to  the  grossest  immoralities, 
without  so  much  as  being  conscious  that  they  are  doing 
\vrong|.. 

*  There  is  even  a  inarlet  held  in  the  island  on  Sundays,  to  -vvhich  the 
slaves  resort  ;  a  profanation  of  the  Lord's  Day  as  needless  as  it  is  irrever- 
ent.    See  Long's  Hist,  (if  Jamaica,  vol.  ii.  p.  491,  49'2. 

I  The  number  of  slaves  in  the  several  West  India  islands  now  in  our 
possession,  or  res:ored  to  us  by  the  "treaty  of  the  present  year  1783,  were, 
a  short  time  before  the  war,  f^aid  to  be  about  410,000.  The  Negroes  in  the 
Frrnch  islands  were,  in  \777,  coinpuied  at  386, 5w0.  Tiie  Abbe  Raynal 
sta:es  the  whole  number  of  African  slaves  in  America  and  the  West  Indian 
islar.ds  at  l,4vJO.O0O.     Elst.  PhlL  vol.  iv.  p.  15. 

\  We  are  mformed,  on  good  authority,  that  the  Negroes  are  allowed  an 
unlim.itei  i)Ju!ge:ice  in  those  vices  which  are  expressly  reprobated  by  the 
Christia't  doctrine.  Long's  Iliit.  of  j/'ainaka,  vol.  ii.  p,  409,  414,  424, 


SERMON  XVII.  211 

A  condition  such  as  this,  in  which  so  many  thou- 
sands of  our  unoffending  fellow-creatures  are  involved, 
cannot  but  excite  the  compassion  of  every  feeling 
heart  ;  and  it  must  be  matter  of  no  small  surprize,  and 
of  the  deepest  concern,  that,  excepting  a  few  instances, 
which  deserve  the  highest  praise,  no  effectual  means 
have  yet  been  put  in  practice,  either  on  the  part  of 
those  individuals  who  are  most  nearly  interested  in  the 
welfare  of  these  poor  wretches,  or  of  the  government 
under  which  diey  live,  to  rescue  them  out  of  this  spir- 
itual captivity,  so  much  worse  than  even  that  temporal 
one  (heavy  as  it  is)  to  which  they  are  condemned.  Al- 
most the  only  considerable  attempts  that  have  l.^ecn 
made  to  deliver  them  from  this  deplorable  state  of  ig- 
norance, have  been  made  by  this  venerable  Society  ; 
which  has  had  this  object,  among  others,  constantly  in 
view,  and  in  the  prosecution  of  it  has  not  been  sparing 
either  of  labor  or  expense.  But  it  must  be  owned 
that  our  endeavors  have  not  hitherto  been  attended 
\vith  the  desired  success.  This,  hoAvcver,  has  been  ow- 
ing, not  to  what  some  are  willing  to  suppose,  an  im- 
possibility in  the  nature  of  the  thing  itself ;  not  to  any 
absolute  incapacity  in  the  Africans  to  receive  or  retaiu 
religious  knowledge  (a  pretence  contradicted  by  the 
JDCst  testimony,  and  by  repeated  experience)  but  to 
accidental,  and,  I  trust,  surmountable  causes  :  to  the 
prejudices  formerly  entertained  by  many  of  the  plan- 
ters against  the  instruction  and  conversion  of  their 
slaves  ;  to  the  want  which  the  latter  have  experienced 
of  sufficient  time  and  opportunity  for  this  purpose  ;  to 
the  abject,  depressed,  degraded,  uncivilized,  unbe- 
friended,  immoral  state,  in  \vhich  the  Negroes  have 
been  so  long  suffered  to  remain  ;  to  the  very  little  at- 
tention paid  to  them  on  the  part  of  government  ;  to 
the  almost  total  want  of  laws  to  protect  and  encourage 
them,  and  to  soften,  in  some  degree,  the  rigors  of  their 
condition*  ;  to  the  necessity,  in  short,  which  the  So- 

•The  regulations  that  have  been  formerly  made  in  the  British  West  India  isl- 
ands, respecting  the  slaves,  breathe  a  spirit  of  extreme  severity  and  rigor. 
There  arc  laws  in  abundance  to  f-unisb,  but  scarce  any  to  protect,  tlicni. 
£.vea  the  wili'ul  murder  of  a  Negro,  from  ivantonness  (as  the  law   Cipresses 


212  SERMON  XVII. 

ciety  itself  has  hitherto  been  under  of  listening  to  other 
claims  of  a  very  pressing  and  important  nature  ;  and 
of  employing  a  large  share  of  its  fund  in  disseminating 
religious  knowledge,  and  providing  for  the  mainte- 
nance of  public  worship  in  other  parts  of  his  majes- 
ty's dominions,  where  its  assistance  was  much  wanted, 
and  most  earnestly  and  repeatedly  solicited. 

These,  I  apprehend,  are  the  principal  obstacles  which 
have  hitherto  retarded  the  general  conversion  of  the 
Negroes.  But  what  then  are  we  to  do  ?  Are  we  ut- 
terly to  abandon  this  great  concern,  to  consider  it  as  a 
desperate,  impracticable,  visionary  project,  to  renounce 
all  hopes  of  ever  making  any  effectual  progress  in  it, 
and,  of  course,  to  consign  over  several  hundred  thou- 
sands of  our  fellow-creatures  to  the  grossest  ignorance, 
irreligion,  and  heathenism  for  ever  ?  It  is  impossible 
that  any  such  idea  should  ever  enter  into  our  m.inds. 
On  the  contrary,  we  shall  certainly  consider  the  failure 
of  our  former  attempts  as  a  strong  and  powerful  call 
upon  us  to  redouble  our  diligence  and  activity  in  this 
most  laudable  undertaking ;  and  the  impediments  we 
have  hitherto  met  with,  far  from  extinguishing  or  aba- 
ting our  honest  zeal,  will  on  the  contrary,  animate  ,us 
with  fresh  ardor,  and  put  us  upon  trying  jieiv  expe- 
^//V;/^^  to  surmount  them.  If  such  be  our  resolution, 
there  are  the  strongest  reasons  to  believe  that  our 
generous  efforts  will  finally  be  crowned  with  success. 
There  are  at  present  several  favorable  circumstances, 
which  may  well  inspire  us  with  hopes  of  a  more  pros- 
perous issue  to  our  pious  labors.  Many  excellent 
tracts  have  ^vithin  these  few  years  been  published, 
both  in  this  and  other  countries,  on  the  subject  of  Ne- 
gro-slavery ;  and  a  still  more  excellent  one  a\  ill,  I  hope, 
soon  see  the  light--^' ;  all  which  can  hardly  fail  by  de- 
it)  and  bloody -viindedness,  is,  inBarlmdoes,  punished  only  by  a  small  pecuniary 
fine.  Some  undoubtedly  meet  with  kind  and  indulgent  masters,  whose  nat- 
ural humanity  stands  in  the  jjlace  of  laws  ;  but  in  general  it  is  to  be  feared 
they  feel  most  sensibly  the  want  of  legal  protection. 

*  Mr.  Ramsay's  Essay  on  the  Treatment  of  the  Negro  Slaves  hi  the  British 
West  India  Islands.  This  was  one  of  the  hrst  Tracts  ,on  the  subject,  which 
excited  the  at;ention  of  the  public,  and  contributed  perhaps  nsore  than  any 
Other  to  the  parliamentary  enquiry  into  the  nature  of  the  slave-trade,  which 


SERMON  X\  ir.  5213 

grees  to  remove  the  prejudices  (if  any  still  remain)  of 
the  A\'cst  Indian  planters,  and  excite  the  attention  of 
Government  to  this  most  important  object ;  which 
must  satisfy  the  former  that  it  is  not  only  their  duty 
but  their  interest  to  consult  a  little  more  both  the  pre- 
sent comfort  and  the  future  salvaiion  of  their  slaves  : 
and  must  convince  the  latter  that  it  highly  becomes 
the  wisdom  of  the  provincial  lef^islatures  to  give  some 
countenance  to  the  wretched  Africans  v*  ho  are  under 
their  power,  and  to  enact,  as  the  French  government 
has  long  since  done,  a  code  of  laws  for  their  pro- 
tection, their  security,  their  encouragement,  their  im- 
provement, and  their  conversion-^.  In  fact,  several 
of  the  most  A\-ealthy  and  most  worthy  proprietors  of 
West  India  estates,  resident  as  well  in  this  country  as 

a  few  years  afterwards  took  place.  With  the  author  of  it,  Mr.  Ramsay,  I 
was  well  acquainted, having  been  forseveral  years  a  r.earneighbor  to  him  in 
Kent.  And  I  think  it  an  act  of  justice,  due  to  his  worth  and  his  great  ex- 
ertions, to  say,  that  he  was  a  man  of  distinguished  jjictey,  integrity,  hu- 
manity, and  veracity.  But  his  work  raised  ujj  agaiiist  him  such  a  host  of 
enemies,  and  sucli  a  torrent  of  obloquy  and  invective  jjoured  in  upon  him 
from  every  quarter,  that  he  sunk  under  the  storm  which  assailed  him,  and 
became,  in  some  degree  at  least,  a  victim  to  the  important  contest  in  which 
he  had  so  warmly  engaged.  It  was,  however,  a  source  of  inexj)ressiblc 
comfort  and  satisfaction  to  him,  in  his  last  moments,  that  he  had  so  stren- 
uously exerted  himself  in  such  a  cause. Feb.  28,  1803. 

*  The  ."system  of  lavvs  here  alluded  to,  is  called  the  code  noir,  and  was 
first  published  in  the  year  1685.  That  copy  of  it  which  I  have  seen  was 
printed  at  Paris  in  12mo.  1767.  It  contains  many  admji-able  regulations  re- 
specting the  diet,  the  clothing,  the  treatment,  the  government,  the  disci- 
pline, the  morais,  and  the  religion  of  the  Negroes.  Amongst  other  things, 
it  obliges  every  planter  to  have  his  Negroes  bapri zed,  and  properly  instructed 
in  the  doctrines  and  duties  of  Christianity.  It  allows  the  slaves  for  these 
purposes,  and  for  days  of  rest,  not  only  every  Sunday,  but  every  festiiial  usu- 
ally observed  by  th:  J?omis/j  church.  It  does  not  permit  any  lyiarket  to  be 
held  on  Sundays  or  holydays.  It  prohibits,  under  severe  penalties,  all  mas- 
ters and managers  from  corrupting  their  fenaale  slaves.  It  does  not  allow 
the  Negro  hu;>band,  wife,  and  infant  children,  to  be  sold  separately.  It 
obliges  the  owners  to  maintain  their  old,  infirm,  and  decrepid  slaves.  It 
forbids  them  the  use  of  torture,  or  of  immoderate  and  inhuman  punish- 
ments. If  the  Negroes  are  not  fed  and  clothed  as  the  laws  prescribe,  or  if 
they  are  in  any  rcspct  cruelly  treated,  they  may  apply  to  the  Procureur,  who 
is  obliged  by  his  office  to  jirotect  and  redress  them.  Such  is  the  humane  at- 
tention of  the  Fvencli  nation  to  their  slaves.  Many  excellent  laws  have  also 
been  made  in  favor  of  the  Indians  employed  !>y  the  Spaniards  in  South 
America.  And  besides  these,  every  district  of  Indians  has  a  protector  ; 
clergvmen,  paid  by  government,  are  appointed  to  instruct  them  ;  and  the 
princij)al  ecclesiastics  are  empowered  to  inform  and  admonish  the  civil  ma- 
gistrates, if  any  Indians  are  deprived  of  their  just  rights.  The  Negroes 
live  there  not  only  in  ease  but  in  luxury.  See  Robertson''s  History  of  America, 
1st  edit.  4:o.  vol.  ii.  p.  ooO,  368,  374,  o77,  4So. 


214  SERMON  XVII. 

ill  the  Islands,  have  of  late  begun  to  see  this  matter  in 
the  right   point  of  view.     They  have  given   repeated 
injunctions  to  their  agents  and  manaoers,  both  to  iiut- 
igate  the  hardships  and  promote  the  instruction  of  their 
Negroes  ;   and  the  planters  in  general  are  no   longer 
alarmed  with  an  imagination  which  was  former]}'  en- 
tertained, that  when  their  Negroes  become  Christians, 
they  cease  to  be  slaves  ;  and  that  in  proportion  as  they 
are  more  religious,  they  grow  less  faithful,  active,  and 
industrious.     Add  to  this,  that  the  last  war,   amidst  a 
multitude  of  evils  such  as  war  necessarily  produces, 
has  been   attended  with  one  accidental  eifect,  which 
whatever  may  be  thought  of  it  in  a  commercial  view, 
I  do  not  scruple,  in  a  religious  one,  to  call  a  blessing. 
It  has  very  greatly  impeded  and  diminished  that  oppro- 
brious traffic,  in  which  this  country  has  for  a  long  time 
taken   the  lead,  the  sla'uc- trade  on  the  coast  of  Africa. 
The  consequence  of  this   has  been  that  several  of  the 
West  India  planters  have   been  induced  to  treat  their 
slaves,  especially  the  females  and  their  children,   M'ith 
more  than  ordinary  tenderness  and  indulgence,  in  order 
to  supply  their  v;ant  of  Negroes  by  their  ov.  n  natural 
population.*     Should  thise  wise  and  humane  practice 
become  an  established  and  universal  custom,  it  would 
exceedingly  facilitate  the  work  both  of  instruction  and 
conversion,  by  furnishing  a  succession  of  young  Ne- 
gro  catechumens,    well  acquainted  with  the  English 
iancruasre,   f  imiliarised    to  the  Enp-lieh  customs,  and 
imcorrupted  by  those  heathenish  principles  and  savage 
TJ'-inners  with  which  tlie  constant  importation  of  fresh 

*  There  can  be  lit'h  doubt  but  that  this  might  easily  be  efFected  by  proper 
C2XC  and  attention,  Ijy  granting  particular  privileges,  rewards,  and  even  free- 
Jom,  to  the  mothers  ai  large  families  ;  by  allowing  more  ease  and  belter 
uourishnient  to  the  Negroes  ;  by  impressing  early  and  strongly  upon  their 
minds  the  belief  and  the  practice  of  the  Christian  religion,  which  can  alone 
veitrain  that  unbounded  and  promiscuous  commerce  with  their  women,  which 
(by  the  acknowledgment  of  the  jilanters  themselves)  is  the  principal  ob- 
stacle to  their  natural  increase  ;  and  by  a  variety  of  other  expedients,  which 
humanity  and  sound  policy  would  naturally  dictate.  And  although  this 
might  be  attended  perhaps  at  first  with  some  trifling  expense, .  and  with 
some  small  abatement  of  present  exertion;  yet  all  this  would  be  amply- 
overpaid  by  the  prodigious  savings  of  what  is  usually  expended  in  the  pur- 
chase of  fresh  slaves,  and  by  the  great  and  acknowledged  siqjeriority  of 
liome-born  Negroes  to  those  imported  from  Africa.  See  Long's  Hhtory  e/~ 
Jamaica,  p.  436,  437,  439. 


SERMON  XVII.  215 

slaves  from  Africa  has  never  failed  to  infect  them,  and 
to  obliterate  in  a  few  weeks  all  those  sentiments  of 
morality  and  religion  Vvhich  it  had  been  the  work  of 
years  to  impress  upon  their  minds. 

These  surely  arc  considerations  which  afford  the 
Society  much  fairer  prospects  of  success  than  it  has  ev- 
er yet  had.  The  harvest  in  this  quarter  ]:»romises  to 
be  much  more  plenteous  than  we  have  hitherto  found 
it,  and  may  well  encourage  us  to  bestow  more  of  our  at- 
tention upon  it,  and  to  send  more  laborers  into  it. — 
Whenever  this  resolution  is  taken,  we  shall  undoubt- 
edly think  it  necessary  and  right  to  begin  with  the  Ne- 
groes on  our  trust-estates  in  Barbadces*^  ;  to  try  how 
far  the  work  of  conversion  can  actually  be  carried,  to 
put  in  practice  every  possible  expedient,  first  to  civil- 
ize, and  then  to  make  them,  what  they  undoubtedly 
may  be  made,  not  merely  nominal,  but  real  Christians. 
The  Society  has  indeed  ahvays  shewn  a  most  laudable 
solicitude  both  for  the  temporal  and  eternal  welfare  of 
tlie  slaves  employed  on  their  plaiitations.  They  have 
given  the  most  positi\'e  and  peremptory  orders  to  their 
managers  to  treat  them  with  the  utmost  tenderness  and 
humanity.  They  have  appoiuted  a  catechist  for  the 
sole  purpose  of  instructing  them  in  the  doctrines  and 
duties  of  Christianity.  They  have  taken  care  that 
their  Negroes  shall  be  regularly  sumnioned  to  divine 
worship,  and  enjoy,  without  interruption,  the  sa- 
cred rest  they  are  entitled  to  on  the  Lord's  Dav.  For 
this  purpose  they  have  allowed  them  for  their  own  use 
the  afternoon  also  of  the  preceding  day  ;  and  their  jour- 
nals are  full  of  the  strongest  and  most  earnest  injunctions 
to  their  catechist  to  exert  his  utm.ost  zeal  in  impress- 
ing a  right  sense  of  religion  on  the  minds  of  their 
slaves ;  a  point  which  the  Society  'declare  in  their  let- 
ters that  it  is  impossible  for  them  cDer  to  gii^e  up\. 
These,  it  must  be  ov.ncd,  are  wise  and  truly  Christiaa 
regulations,  and  highly  suitable  to  the  chara'cter  of  this 
venerable  Society.     But  it  is  greatly  to  be  doubted 

*  Certain  lands  in  Barhadocs,  bequeathed  to  tlie  Society  by  General  Ccd- 
dringtci! ;';/  trust  for  particular  uses  speciik-d  in  his  \s\\\. 

\  See  the  Society's  Jniinals,  ir<i9. 


216  SERMON  XVII. 

whether  these   directions  have  always  been  punctually 
complied  with  in  the  degree  and  to  the  extent  propo- 
sed ;   or  if  they  have,  there  is  but  too  much  reason  to 
fear,  that  they  have  by  no  means  fully  answered  the 
good  intentions  of  the  Society.     The  truth  is,  these 
are  excellent  beginnings^  but  they  are  only  beginnings  of 
an  effectual  and  vital  conversion  of  the  Negroes.     A 
foundation  is  laid,  but  it  must  be  laid,   I  apprehend, 
still  broader  and  deeper  before  it  will  bear   a   super- 
structure  of  sufficient  strength  and   solidity,   "  and  so 
"  fitly  framed  together  as  to  grovv^  into  a  holy  temple 
*'  unto  the  Lord,  and  a  permanent   habitation  of  God 
''  through  the  spirit*."     It  is,   in  short  the  clear  and 
decided  opinion  of  every  man  who  has  considered  the 
subject  thoroughly,  and  has  had   opportunities  of  ob- 
serving and  studying  for  a  long  course    of  years,    the 
temper,  the   disposition,  the  manners,    the  capacities, 
the  treatment,  and  the  condition  of  our  Negro- slaves, 
that  in  their  present  state  of  debasement  and  degrada-- 
tion,  sunk  as  they  are  below  the  level  of  the  human  spe- 
cies ;   treated  merely  as  animals  doomed  to  labor ;    cut 
off  almost  entirely  from  the  protection  of  the  state,  and 
the  advantages  of  social  life,  with  scarce  any  substan- 
tial comforts  and  indulgences  to  cheer  their  spirits,  to 
excite  their  ambition,    to  encourage  their  hopes,  they 
are  hardly  capable  of  receiving  any  deep  and  lasting 
impressions  of  religion.     In  fjict,  a  certain    degree  of 
improvement  and  civilization  has  been  always  found 
necessary  to  prepare  the  mind  for  the  admission  of  the 
divine  truths  of  Revelation  :  and,  unless  the  soil  is  a 
little  tilled  and  dressed,  and  meliorated  by  a  proper 
course  of  cultivation,  the  good  seed  will  scarce   ever 
strike  root  in  it,  or  at  least  take  such   firm  hold  upon 
it  as  to  spring  up  with  health  and  vigor,  and  *'  bring 
"  forth  fruit  to  perfection."     If  ever  then  v/e  hope  to 
make  any  considerable  progress  in  our  benevolent  pur- 
pose of  communicating  to  our  Negroes   the  benefits 
and  the  blessings  of  religion,   v/c  must  first  give  them 
some  of  the  benefits  and  the  blessings  of  society  and  of 

*  E;)lies.  ii.  21,  22. 


SERMON  XVII.  217 

civilized  government.  We  must,  as  far  as  is  possible, 
attach  the'm  and  their  families  inseparably  to  the  soil  ; 
must  give  them  a  little  interest  in  it ;  must  indulge 
them  with  a  few  rights  and  privileges  to  be  anxious 
for  ;  must  secure  them  by  fixed  laws  from  injury  and 
insult  ;  must  inform  their  minds,  correct  their  morals, 
accustom  them  to  the  restraints  of  legal  marriage,  to 
the  care  of  a  family  and  the  comforts  of  domestic  life  ; 
must  improve  and  advance  their  condition  gradually, 
as  they  are  able  to  bear  it  ;  and  c\'en  allow  a  certain 
number  of  the  most  deserving  to  work  out  their  free- 
dom by  degrees  (according  to  the  plan  said  to  be  es- 
tablished in  some  of  the  Spanish  settlements)  as  a  re- 
ward of  superior  merit  and  industry,  and  of  an  uncom- 
mon progress  in  the  knowledge  and  the  practice  of 
Christianity*. 

All  this  may  be  done,  as  they  who  are  best  acquaint- 
ed with  the  subject  have  asserted,  and  I  think  proved, 
without  the  smallest  injury  to  the  rights,  the  property, 
or  the  emoluments  of  the  planter  ;  and  were  a  plan  of 
this  nature  introduced  first  into  the  Society's  estates, 
there  is  every  reason  in  the  world  to  expect  from  it  the 
most  beneficial  consequences,  not  only  in  a  religious, 

*  The  Spanish  regulation  here  alluded  to,  is  said  to  have  taken  place  at 
the  Havanwah  ;  and  is  as  follows.  As  soon  as  a  slave  is  landed,  his  name, 
price,  &.C.  are  entered  in  a  public  register  ;  and  the  master  is  obliged  by  law 
to  allow  him  one  working  day  in  every  week  to  himself,  besides  Sunday  ; 
so  that  if  he  chooses  to  work  for  his  master  on  that  day,  he  receives  the  wa- 
ges of  a  free-man  for  it  ;  and  whatever  he  gains  by  his  labor  on  that  day 
is  so  secured  to  him  by  law,  that  the  master  cannot  deprive  him  of  it.  As 
soon  as  the  slave  is  able  to  purchase  another  working  day,  the  master  is  obli- 
ged to  sell  it  to  him  at  a  proportionable  price,  viz.  one  fifth  part  of  his  ori- 
ginal cost  ;  and  so  likewise  tlie  remaining  four  days,  at  the  same  rate,  as 
soon  as  the  slave  is  able  to  redeem  them  :  after  which  he  is  absolutely 
free. — See  Mr.  Sharp" s  Appendix  to  the  Ju.n  Limitation  of  Slavery.  &c. 
p.  53. 

There  is  something  wonderfully  pleasing  and  benevolent  in  this  institu- 
tion. It  were  greatly  to  be  wished  that  some  expedient  of  this  kind  might 
be  tried -At  least  as  an  experiment,  in  some  of  the  English  islands.  It  is  be- 
lieved (on  very  just  grounds,  awd  after  the  maturest  consideration  of  the 
siibject)  bj  men  of  great  judgment  and  long  e.xperience  in  the  managemen 
of  West  India  estates,  that  if  the  Negroes  on  any  of  our  plantations  were 
emancipated  gradually  (for  every  improvement  of  their  situation  must  be 
iiery  gradual)  in  some  such  way  as  is  here  proposed,  and  retained  afterwards 
by  tlif  ir  owners  as  day -laborers  at  a  certain  fair  stipulated  price,  it  would  be 
an  alteration  no  less  advantageous  to  the  planter  than  kind  and  coriipassion- 
Rtc  to  the  Negro. 

D  d 


218  SERMON  XVII. 

but  even  in  a  lucrative  view.  In  the  present  situatiOH 
indeed  of  those  estates,  it  cannot  well  he  attempted* 
The  embarrassments  in  which,  by  a  series  of  the  most 
imfortunate  incidents,  they  have  for  some  time  past 
been  involved,  have  rendered  it  necessary  for  the  So- 
ciety to  part  with  the  management  of  them  for,  a  few 
years  out  of  their  own  hands,  which  will  render  it  un- 
adviseablc,  and  indeed  impracticable,  to  establish  for 
the  present,  in  their  full  extent,  the  regulations  now 
proposed.  Yet  still  if  any  thing  here  suggested  should 
seem  to  deserve  the  Society's  attention,  they  may  at 
least  allow  it  to  have  some  share  in  their  delibei-ations  ; 
they  may  be  forming,  digesting,  and  arranging  their 
future  measures  with  a  view  to  this  great  object,  and 
be  gradually  preparing  the  way  for  tlie  complete  execu- 
tion of  them  at  a  proper  tune  ;  in  which  there  can  be 
no  doubt  but  they  will  hav^e  the  hearty  concurrence 
and  assistance  of  tliat  worthy  and  benevolent  member 
of  the  Society  to  whom  they  have  for  the  present  con- 
signed their  West  Indian  property. 

With  regard  to  our  missionaries  in  North  America, 
in  what  state  they  will  remain  after  the  great  change 
M'hich  has  so  recently  taken  place  on  that  continent,  is 
as  yet  unknown  ;  and  therefore  at  present  nothing 
more  can  with  propriety  be  said  concerning  them  than 
this  ;  that  the  interests  of  the  Church  of  England  in 
America,  will  never  be  willingly  abandoned  by  this  So- 
ciety ;  and  that  we  shall  ever  retain,  and,  as  far  as  we 
are  able,  give  the  most  substantial  proofs  that  we  do  en- 
tertain, a  just  and  deep  sense  of  the  merits  of  those  ex- 
cellent persons  among  our  missionaries,  who,  amidst 
the  dangers  and  distresses  of  war,  have  preserved  their 
iidclitv  unshaken,  and  throu":h  a  lonar  course  of  the  se- 
verest  trials  have  persevered  uniformly  and  steadily  in 
the  discharge  of  their  duty  to  their  country,  to  the 
Society,  and  to  the  several  congregations  entrusted  to 
their  care. 

But  there  is  still  another  point  which  calls  at  present 
for  some  part  of  our  attention  ;  I  meaii  the  English 
Protestants  in  the   prc;'ince   of  Canada.     They   arc 


SERMON  XVII.  219 

•riow  said  to  amount  to  several  thousands,  settled  in 
different  parts  of  the  country,  and  at  considerable  dis- 
tances from  eacli  other.  For  the  instruction  of  all 
these  there  are  no  more  than  three  Protestant  clergy- 
men, and  those  all  foi-eigners,  appointed  and  paid  by 
go\Trnment.  There  is  not  in  the  whole  province  a 
single  English  clergyman  of  our  own  communion,  nor 
is  there  a  single  church  belonging  to  the  Protestants, 
they  being  obliged  to  make  use  of  the  Romish  chapels. 

Every  one  must  be  sensible  that  such  a  provision  as 
this,  for  the  support  of  public  worship  among  our  Pro- 
testant brethren  in  Canada,  is  exceeding!}'  inadequate 
to  their  wants,  and  loudly  calls  for  some  addition  and 
improvement.  One  should  naturally  hope  that  Go- 
vernment itself  would,  on  a  proper  representation  of 
the  case,  extend  its  protection  and  assistance  to  so 
many  deserving  subjects,  and  increase  the  establish- 
ment of  Protestant  ministers  in  proportion  to  the  great 
increase  of  Protestant  inhabitants  ;  to  which  probably 
there  will  now  be  very  considerable  accessions  from  the 
other  American  provinces.  In  the  mean  while,  this 
Society  will  perhaps  think  it  necessary  to  pay  some 
regard  to  those  parts  of  Canada,  where  the  English 
Protestants  arc  most  destitute  of  proper  religious  in- 
struction, and  most  remote  from  all  opportunities  of 
joining  in  that  mode  of  public  worship  which  is  con- 
formable to  their  religious  sentiments- 

Every  exertion,  however,  that  the  Society  may  think 
fit  to  make  in  these  respects,  will  be  perfectly  consist- 
ent with  that  great  and  necessary  work  which  has  been 
recommended  in  this  discourse.  The  proper  period 
for  carrying  the  ^ivhole  of  it  into  executioii  must  un- 
doubtedly, for  the  reasons  already  assigned,  be  at  some 
distance  ;  but  the  first  steps  towards  it  may  certainlv 
be  taken  without  delay.  We  may,  at  least,  enquire 
more  exactly  into  the  effects  produced  by  the  labors  of 
our  Catechist  on  our  own  Negroes.  We  may  send, 
if  it  should  appear  necessary,  fresh  instructions  to 
him,  and  may  appoint  missionaries  to  such  of  the  plan- 
tations as  are  willing  to  receive  them.     From  tliesc  be- 


220  SERMON   XVII. 

ginnings  we  may  advance  by  degrees  towards  the  com- 
pletion of  our  design,  till  our  plantation  become  (what 
I  trust  it  will  one  day  be)  a  model  for  all  the  West 
India  islands  to  imitate  :  till  it  exhibit  to  the  world  a 
spectacle  no  less  singular  in  its  kind,  than  honorable 
to  us  and  our  religion,  a  little  society  of  truly  Christian 
Negroes,  impressed  with  a  just  sense,  and  living  in  the 
habitual  practice,  of  the  several  duties  they  one  to 
God,  to  their  masters,  to  their  fellow-laborers,  and 
themselves  ;  governed  by  fxed  laws,  and  by  the  ex- 
actest  discipline,  yet  tempered  with  gentleness  and 
humanity  ;  enjoying  some  little  share  of  the  comforts 
and  advantages  of  social  and  domestic  life  ;  seeing  their 
children  educated  in  the  principles  of  morality  and  re- 
ligion ;  performing  their  daily  task  with  alacrity  and 
fidelity  ;  looking  up  to  their  masters  as  their  friends, 
their  protectors,  and  benefactors  ;  and  consoling  them- 
selves for  the  loss  of  their  liberty  and  their  native  land, 
by  the  care  taken  to  "  make  their  yoke  easy  and  their 
*' burden  light,"  to  civilize  their  manners,  to  enlarge 
their  understandings,  to  reform  their  hearts,  and  to 
open  to  them  a  prospect  into  a  better  and  happier  coun- 
try, where  all  tears  shall  be  wiped  from  their  eyes,  and 
where  sorrow  and  sla'uery  shall  be  no  more. 

A  scene  such  as  this,  which  is  far,  I  am  persuaded, 
from  being  a  visionary  idea,  would  be  delightful  to  hu- 
manity ;  would  form  a  new  school  for  piety  and 
VIRTUE  IN"  THE  WESTERN  WORLD,  a  Seminary  of  re- 
ligion for  all  the  slaves  of  the  neighboring  plantations 
and  islands,  perhaps  ultimately  for  the  whole  coast  of 
Africa  ;  would  be  an  example  of  decency,  of  order,  of 
harmony,  of  industry,  of  happiness,  which  the  other 
planters  would  find  it  impossible  to  resist ;  and  would 
more  effectually  confute  the  various  objections  that 
have  been  made  to  the  conversion  of  the  African  slaves, 
than  all  the  speculative  arguments  in  the  world*. 

*  Every  thing  here  proposed,  with  respect  to  the  Negroes  belonging  to 
the  Society's  estate  in  Barbadoes,  might  be  effected  without  diff.cuhy,  if  a 
missionary  ivell  qualifed  for  the  business  was  sent  there,  witli  a  good  ap- 
pointment, for  the  sJe  purposs  of  in&tructing  the  blavcs  in  the  principles  of 
.TOorality  and  religiou. 


SERMON  XVII.  221 

And  let  us  not  be  deterred  from  this  noble  underta- 
king' by  the  apprehension  of  that  addidonal  expense  in 
which  it  may  involve  us.  The  demands  upon  us  from 
other  quarters,  where  \\c  have  formerly  expended 
considerable  sums,  will  probably  be  continually  grow- 
ing less  and  less  ;  the  expenses  incurred  on  account  of 
our  West  Indian  estates  arc  now  in  a  train  of  being 
gradually  repaid,  and  even  the  savings  from  the  mis- 
sions now  vacant  in  America  (should  it  be  found  im- 
practicable or  unadviseable  tore-establish  them)  would 
be  more  that  sufficient  to  answer  all  the  purposes  of  the 
proposed  undertaking.  But  should  it  even  require 
more  than  our  revenues  can  supply,  we  need  be  under 
no  apprehension  of  wanting  proper  support.  When 
once  it  is  known  that  the  civilization  and  the  conver- 
sion of  the  Negro-slaves  is  to  be  hereafter  one  of  the 
grand  leading  objects  of  our  pious  labors,  and  a  prop- 
er and  practicable  plan  for  that  purpose  is  laid  before 

And  ihat  a  genera/ conversion  of  the  Negroes  to  Christianity  is  no  vision- 
ary or  romantic  project,  but  perfectly  practicable,  and  that  it  would  be  in 
the  highest  degree  beneficial,  both  to  the  Negroes  themselves  and  to  their 
proprietors,  by  improving  their  morals,  and  promoting  their  increase,  by 
rendering  them  more  content  with  their  situations,  more  diligent  in  their 
labors,  more  attached  to  their  masters,  is  evident  from  the  report  made  on 
the  subject  to  the  committee  of  privy  council  (which  sat  in  the  year  1788  to 
examine  evidence  on  the  slave-trade,  and  at  which  I  constantly  assisted)  by 
the  governors  and  legislators  of  almost  all  our  West  India  islands.  And  it 
is  further  confinned  beyond  a  doubt,  by  actual  experience,  by  the  astonishing 
success  which  has  attended  the  labors  of  the  Moravian  missionaries  in  the 
Danish  islands  of  St.  Thomas,  St.  Croix,  and  Sc.  John,  and  more  particu- 
larly in  the  island  of  Antigua,  where  there  are  now  near  10,000  Negroes, 
under  their  direction,  who  are  not  only  baptized  but  carefully  instructed  in 
the  doctrines  and  duties  of  revealed  religion,  and  are  not  merely  nominal 
but  real  Christians.  And  so  much  do  their  converts  exceed  all  the  uncon- 
verted slaves  in  sobriety,  industry,  honesty,  fidelity,  and  obedience  to  their 
masters,  that  all  the  planters  in  that  island  are  anxious  to  have  their  Ne- 
groes placed  under  their  care.  A  very  satisfactory  statement  of  these  im- 
portant and  decisive  facts  may  be  found  in  a  paper  sent  from  Antigua,  and 
inserted  in  the  very  valuable  repor'.of  the  committee  of  privy  council  above- 
mentioned. 

In  the  speech  made  by  Mr.  Charles  Ellis  in  the  house  of  Commons,  on 
his  moving  for  a  gradual  termination  of  the  slave-trade,  in  the  year  1797, 
that  gentleman  strongly  rccominends  a  general  plan  for  the  instruction  of 
the  Negro  slaves  in  the  ])rinciplcs  of  morality  and  religion  ;  and  in  conse- 
quence of  his  motion  being  adopted  by  the  hoube,  directions  were  actually 
sent  by  the  Secretary  of  State  to  the  governors  of  the  West  India  islands, 
to  promote  in  the  most  efiectual  manner  the  moral  and  religious  instruction  of 
the  Negroes.  But  I  have  not  yet  heard  that  any  cUcctual  measures  hare 
hitherto  been  taken  for  that  purpose.     March  10,  1S03. 


222  SERMON  XVIL 

the  public,  every  heart,  every  hand,  will  be  open  on 
the  occasion  ;  and  there  cannot  be  a  doubt  but  that 
the  increase  of  our  benefactions  and  subscriptions  will 
soon  gratify  our  most  sanguine  wishes.  It  is  impos- 
sible that  the  generosity,  the  humanity,  Iwill  add,  the 
justice  of  tliie  English  nation,  can  suffer  near  half  a  mil- 
lion of  their  fellow-creatures  to  continue  in  the  most 
deplorable  state  of  heathenism,  irreligion,  and  vice, 
without  giving  the  Society  every  assistance  that  may 
be  necessary  to  extricate  them  out  of  it.  It  would  be 
glorious  to  Great  Britain  to  take  the  lead  in  this  benev- 
olent  and  truly  Christian  enterprize.  And  allow  me 
to  add,  that  it  is  peculiarly  incumbent  on  the  people 
of  this  kingdom  to  exert  their  utmost  liberality  in  alle- 
viating the  miseries,  both  temporal  and  spiritual,  of  the 
wretched  Africans ;  since  they  have  been  for  many 
years  (till  interrupted  by  the  late  war)  more  largely  con- 
cerned in  that  inhuman  merchandize  of  men,  and  have 
imported  more  slaves  into  the  colonies,  than  any  other 
nation  in  Europe.  By  their  means  principally  have 
many  thousands,  many  millions,  of  human  creatures 
been  torn  from  their  native  land,  from  Qvcry  blessing 
that  was  valuable,  every  connection  that  was  dear  to 
tliem  ;  and,  after  passing  in  their  voyage  through  iu- 
incredible  hardships  and  difnculties,  (under  which 
great  numbers  of  them  actually  perish*)  have  been  lan- 
ded in  a  country  and  among  a  people  unknown  to 
them  ;  and,  without  any  offence  or  fault  of  theirs,  have 
been  doomed  to  a  perpetual  servitude,  a  servitude  too 
which  they  leave  (the  only  inheritance  they  ha'-ce  to 
leave)  entailed  on  their  latest  posterityf. 

*  In  the  passage,  and  in  what  is  called  the  seawning  in  the  islands,  one- 
•third  of  the  nevv-iraported  Negroes  is  sometimes  lost.      Long's  Hist,  of  ya- 

''n/iica,  vol.  ii.  p.  434.  and  Ber.ezet's  Caution,  &.C.  p.  40.  In  a  late  tnal  at 
'Guildhall  it  appt'aied,  tliat  a  ship  freighted  with  slaves,  being  reduced  to  a 

great  scarcity   of  water,  133    Negroes   -were  hand-cuffed,  and  t.bi oivn  into  the 

lea  .' 

+  In  the  year  1763,  the  number  of  slaves  bought  on  the  coast  of  Africa 
was  104,100.  Of  these  53,100  were  b.>ught  by  Biitish  merchants.  The 
.tonstant  annual  importation,  and  of  course  the  annual  cansumptiun,  of  Ne- 
frroes  in  America  and  the  West  Lnlies,  is  supposed  to  have  been  of  late 
years,  on  an  average,  about  60,0J0.  'I'he  Abbe  Rasnal  states  the  total  ini- 
_j3ortation  from  Africa,  since  the  hrst  beginning  of  the  slave-trade,  ntne  nut' 


APPENDIX    TO    SERMON    XVII.  223 

Let  then  our  countrymen  make  haste  to  relieve,  as 
far  as  they  are  able,  the  calamities  they  have  brought 
on  so  larjre  a  part  of  the  human  race  ;  let  them  enoea- 
vor  to  Wipe  aA\  ay  the  reproach  of  having  deliverer 
over  so  many  of  their  innocent  fellow-creatures  to  u 
most  heavy  temporal  bondage,  both  by  contributing 
to  soothe  and  alleviate  that  as  much  as  possible,  and  by 
endeavoring  to  rescue  them  from  the  still  more  cruel 
bondage  of  ignorance  and  sin.  Let  them,  in  short, 
concur,  with  the  generous  efforts  of  the  Society  "  ^to 
"  heal  tiie  brohcn-hcartcdy  to  preach  deliverance  to  tnc 
"  capthcs,  and  recovery  of  sight  to  the  bl'iml  to  set  at 
•'  liberty  them  that  are  bruised,  to  preach  the  accepta- 
"■  ble  year  of  the  Lord." 


APPENDIX  TO   SERMON   XVII. 

THAT  the  slave-trade  to  the  coast  of  Africa  might 
without  any  material  injury  to  our  islands  be  abolished 
bv  one  of  the  methods  mentioned  in  the  last  note  to 
the  preceding  sermon  p.  222,  has  been  repeatedly,  and 
I  think  very  satisfactorily  proved.  The  attempts, 
however,  that  have  been  made  to  carry  into  efiect  any 
mode  of  abolition,  have  for  the  present  failed,  and  the 
question  is  now  probai)ly  at  rest  for  many  years.  But 
although  the  main  object  of  this  great  and  memorable 
contest  lias  been  unfortunately  lost,  and  tlie.  eftcrts  of 
those  truly  great  men,  who  to  their  immortal  honor 
contended  for  the  extinction  of  this  odious  traffic,  have 
not  been  attended  with  that  complete  success  ^vhlch 
might  have  been  expected  from  the  justice  of  their 
cause,  the  weight  of  their  arguments,  the  splendor  of 

Hans  of  slaves.  Ifht.  Pli/.  vol  \v.  v- 134.  Surely  it  dcscnes  conEkleration 
again  and  again,  whether  this  cruel  havock  might  not  be  prevented,  ^itbo>a 
tiny  injury  to  the  idands,  by  some  one  of  the  methods  above  suggested  ;  ei- 
iher  bv  trying  to  cultivate  the  sugar-cane  by  enfranchised  blacks,  or  by  the 
abolition  cf  the  slave-trade,  at  a  certain  distant  jiericd,  or  by  giving  suctt 
encoura.qCTnent  to  the  population  of  the  Negroes  in  our  i-slanUs,  a&  inig^ 
render  their  increase  equal  to  the  demand  of  the  plantauons,  and  prcauac 
the  Hccesbiry  of  an/further  importation  from  Africa. 


224  APPEXDIX    TO    SERMON    XVII. 

their  talents,  and  the  unrivalled  power  of  their  elo- 
quence, yet  still  many  important  advantages  have  inci- 
dentally arisen  from  the  agitation  of  the  question,  and 
the  cause  of  humanity  has  upon  the  whole  been  a  con- 
siderable gainer  by  the  conflict. 

In  the  first  place,  many  excellent  regulations  have 
been  made  respecting  the  vessels  in  which  the  negroes 
are  conveyed  from  Africa  to  the  West  Indies,  and  the 
mode  of  treating  them  during  their  voyage  ;  which 
have  contributed  most  essentially  to  the  preservation 
of  their  lives,  and  to  the  alleviation  of  the  extreme  mis- 
ery they  formerly  endured  in  passing  from  one  country 
to  the  other. 

2.  Since  the  discussion  of  this  question,  the  condi- 
tion of  the  negro  slaves  in  the  British  West  India  isl- 
ands, has  been  considerably  ameliorated.  A  much 
greater  degree  of  lenity  and  gentleness  has  been  exer- 
cised towards  them,  by  the  greater  part  of  the  West  In- 
dia proprietors,  than  is  said  to  have  generally  prevailed 
in  the  islands  twenty  years  ago.  Their  ease  and  com- 
fort have  in  several  instances  been  very  humanely  con- 
sulted, and  some  very  salutary  laws  have  been  enacted 
for  their  protection,  and  security,  especially  in  die  Isl- 
ands of  Jamaica,  and  Grenada. 

3.  Another  most  important  advantage,  resulting 
from  this  contest,  is  that  in  the  course  of  it,  the  nature 
of  the  slave-trade  to  the  coast  of  Africa,  has  been  fully 
laid  open  to  the  world  ;  all  its  horrors  have  been  drag- 
ged forth  to  public  view,  and  tlie  grand  point  in  dis- 
pute, on  which  the  controversy  chiefly  turned,  and  the 
truth  of  which  was  for  a  long  time  most  strenuously 
denied  by  the  opposers  of  the  abolition,  I  mean  the  in- 
justice, the  inhumanity,  and  the  immorality  of  that 
trade,  has  been  at  length  given  up,  even  by  several  of 
the  West  India  proprietors  themselves,  and  those  too 
of  the  most  respectable  characters  and  talents. 

I  appeal  in  the  first  place,  to  the  full,  explicit,  and 
honorable  confession  of  the  late  Mr.  Bryan  Edwards 
(the  celebrated  historian  of  the  West  Indies,  and  an 
enemy  to  the  abolition  of  the  slave-trade)  in  his  speech 


APPENDIX  TO   SERMON    XVII.  225 

delivered  at  a  free  conference  between  the  council  and 
assembly  of  the  island  of  Jamaica,  on  the  19th  of  No- 
vember, 1780.     The  passage  I  allude  to  is  as  follows. 

*'  I  am  persuaded  diat  Mr.  Wilberforce,  has  been  very 
rightly  informed,  as  to  the  manner  in  which  slaves  are 
generally  procured.  The  intelligence  I  have  collected 
from  my  own  negroes  abundantly  confirm  Mr.  Wil- 
berforce's  account ;  and  I  have  not  the  smallest  doubt 
that  in  Africa  the  effects  of  this  trade  are  precisely 
such  as  he  represents  them  to  be.  Sir,  the  whole  or 
greatest  part  of  that  immense  continent  is  a  field  of 
\varfare,  and  desolation  ;  a  wilderness  in  which  the 
inhabitants  are  wolves  toward  each  other.  That  this 
scene  of  oppression,  fraud  treachery,  and  blood,  if  not 
originally  occasioned,  is  in  part  (I  will  not  say  wholly) 
upheld  by  the  slave-trade,  I  dare  not  dispute.  Every 
man  in  the  sugar  islands  may  be  convinced  that  it  is  so, 
who  will  inquire  of  any  African  negroes,  on  their  first 
arrival,  concerning  the  circumstances  of  their  captivity. 
The  assertion  that  a  great  many  of  them  are  criminals 
and  convicts,  is  a  mockery  and  insult ;  nor  can  any 
thing  be  more  fallacious  than  a  comparative  reference 
to  the  number  of  felons  transported  annually  from 
England."   Mr.  Edward'' s  speech  at  a  Free  Conference, 

^c. p.  10. 

In  the  next  place,  I  appeal  to  the  motion  made  by 
Mr.  Charles  Ellis,  in  the  bouse  of  commons,  April  6, 
1737,  for  adopting  such  measures  as  might  gradually 
diminish  the  necessity  of  the  slave-trade,  and  ultimate- 
ly lead  to  its  complete  termination  ;  which  motion  (as 
we  are  informed  by  one  of  the  speakers  in  that  debate] 
was,  much  to  their  honor,  made  at  the  general  and  al- 
most unanimous  desire  of  the  whole  West  Indian  body 
in  the  house  of  commons,  afeer  many  and  deep  con- 
sultations*. 

In  the  debate  on  this  motion,  Mr.  Ellis  candidly 
confesses  that  the  slave-trade  could  not  be  considered 
in  any  odier  light,  than  as  a  necessary  cDil\  ;  and  that 
if  the-questions  were  changed  to  a  deliberation,  wheth- 

■'  Mu  Barhain's  speech. -;\  56.  •<.  Mr.  Ellis's  speech. p-  38. 

E  e 


226  APPENDIX  TO    SERMON  XVII. 

er  a  system  should  or  should  not  now  be  established, 
which  must  depend  for  its  future  existence  on  a  trade 
in  slaves,  the  discussion  might  then  be  confined  to  the 
merits  of  such  a  trade  ;  and  arguing  simply  on  that 
principle,  it  would  be  impossible  for  any  man  of  com- 
mon humanity^  to  hesitate  in  foregoing  whatever  advan- 
tages might  be  expected  from  such  a  system*. 

It  appears  then  from  this  speech  of  Mr.  Ellis,  and 
still  more  from  that  of  Mr.  Edwards,  that  the  merits 
of  the  trade  are  completely  abandoned,  and  the  pro- 
priety of  putting  a  termination  to  it  admitted.  The 
question  is  therefore,  now  brought  into  a  very  narrow 
compass,  and  reduced  to  this  single  point ;  what  is 
the  best  and  safest  and  most  eifectual  mode  of  remov- 
ing this  dreadful  scourge  of  so  large  a  part  of  the  hu- 
man race.  This  will  be  the  sole  subject  of  consider- 
ation, if  ever  this  great  question  shall  be  again  resum- 
ed ;  and  when  all  the  ability  and  wisdom  of  the  two 
houses  of  parliament  are  directed  to  this  single  point 
now  at  issue,  we  may  reasonably  flatter  ourselves  that 
the  decision  of  it  will  not  meet  with  much  difficulty 
or  much  delay. 

•  Mr.  Ellis's  speech,  p.  2. 


SERMON  XVIII. 


Jqhn  xiii.  23. 

J^'bw  there  nvan  Imnwg'  on  Jesus'  bosom  one  of  his  discijiles,  xvhom 
Jesus  loved. 

nj'^HE  person  here  described,  is  St.  John  die  Evan- 
JL  gelist,  die  author  of  diat  Gospel  whicli  bears  his 
name,  and  from  Avhich  the  text  is  taken.  It  was  he 
■who  enjoyed  the  honorable  distinction  of  being  placed 
next  to  his  di\'ine  Master,  and  of  leaning  on  his  bo- 
som at  supper.  He  was,  moreover,  always  one  of 
those  Avhom  our  Lord  admitted  to  his  most  confiden- 
tial conversations  and  most  interesting  transactions,  es- 
pecially in  the  last  awful  and  affecting  scenes  of  his  life  ; 
and  he  is  scarce  ever  mentioned  by  any  other  name 
than  that  of  the  disciple  whom  jesus  lov£d*. 
These  circumstances  plainly  mark  die  favorite  and  the 
friend  :  and,  on  the  other  hand,  if  w'e  advert  a  little 
to  the  conduct  of  St.  John  towards  our  Lord  during  the 
course  of  his  sufferings,  the  very  time  when  true 
friendship  would  be  most  apt  to  show  itself,  we  shall 
discover  in  it  plain  indications  of  a  strong  and  tender 
affection. 

When  cur  Saviour  was  betrayed  by  Judas,  and  ap- 
prehended by  the  Jews,  though  St.  John  had  at  first, 
Avith  all  the  other  disciples,  forsaken  him  and  fled  ;  yet 
his  affection  soon  got  the  better  of  his  fears,  and 
prompted  him  to  follow  his  Lord,  at  the  utmost  hazard 
of  his  own  life,   into  the  palace  of  the  high-priestf. 

•  John  xiii.  23  ;  xix.  26  ;  xx.  2  ;  xxi.  7-  30. 
\  See  Le  Clerc,  DoddiLdge,  and  other  commentators  on  John  xviii.  15, 1*. 


228  SERMON  XVIII.  \ 

St.  Peter  did  the  same,  but  in  a  very  short  time  after- 
wards, exhibited  a  melancholy  instance  of  human  in- 
firmity, and  notwithstanding  the  most  vehement  and 
passionate  professions  of  inviolable  attachment  to  Je- 
sus, he  denied  him  three  times  with  execrations  and 
oaths.  St.  John's  way  of  manifesting  his  sincerity 
was  not  by  words,  but  by  deeds.  He  faitlifully  ad- 
hered to  his  divne  Master  in  the  very  midst  of  his  en- 
emies, and  with  fond  anxiety  pursued  him  through  all 
the  various  events  of  this  distressful  period  of  his  life. — 
After  Jesus  was  condemned  and  hung  upon  the  cross, 
casting  his  eyes  down  from  that  dreadful  eminence,  he 
saw  among  the  crowd  "  the  disciple  whom  he  loved 
*'  standing  by*."  It  does  not  appear  from  the  history 
that  there  were  any  other  of  the  Aposdes  that  attend- 
ed him  in  this  last  melancholy  scene  except  St.  John. — ■ 
They  were  terrified,  it  should  seem,  vv  ith  the  danger 
of  openly  espousing  him  at  so  critical  a  time.  But, 
unawed  by  any  such  apprehensions,  which  all  gave  way 
to  the  ardor  of  his  friendship,  and  the  extremity  of 
his  grief,  our  evangelist  placed  himself  as  near  as  he 
could  to  the  cross,  to  catch  the  dying  looks,  and  to 
wait  the  last  commands  of  his  Lord  and  friend.  Those 
commands  were  soon  given  him,  in  the  most  affecting 
terms ;  and  the  trust  then  reposed  in  him  was  of  such 
a  nature  as  plainly  showed  what  unbounded  confidence 
his  dying  Master  placed  in  his  fidelity  and  affection. 
For  our  Lord  observing  several  women,  and  among 
them  his  mother,  standing  near  his  cross,  fixed  in 
grief,  horror,  and  amazement,  at  that  dreadful  specta- 
cle, he  said  to  his  mother,  "  Woman,  behold  thy  son  !" 
then,  turning  towards  St.  John,  *'  Behold  thy  moth- 
<t  erf  !"  Words  few  and  simple,  but  full  of  meaning, 
expressive  of  a  thousand  tender  sentiments,  both  to- 
wards  the  distressed  parent  whom  he  left  behind  him, 
and  the  friend  to  v\  hose  care  so  sacred  a  pledge  v/as 
committed.  St.  John  instantly  saw  the  meaning,  and 
felt  the  force  of  this  moving  bequest.  He  considered 
our  Lord's  mother  as  his  own,   and  from  that  hour  (as 

*  John  xix.  26.  t  Jol'-n  -'^i^-  26,  27. 


SERMON  XVIII.  229 

he  himself  with  his  usual  modesty  and  simplicity  tells 
us)  *'  he  took  her  to  his  ovvn  home*." 

Nor  did  his  ailection  Tor  his  departed  friend  termi- 
nate here.  It  was  continued  after  his  crucifixion,  to 
his  memory,  his  character,  and  his  religion.  After  a 
long  life  spent  in  teaching  and  suffering  for  that  religion, 
he  concluded  it  with  a  work  of  infinite  utility,  the  re- 
visal  of  the  three  Gospels  already  written,  and  the 
addition  of  his  ow  n  to  supply  what  they  had  omitted. 
Witli  this  view  principally  he  gives  us  several  of  our 
Saviour's  discourses  with  his  disciples,  which  are  no 
where  else  to  be  met  with  ;  and  it  is  very  observable, 
that  these,  as  well  as  tlie  many  other  occurrences  of 
his  life,  which  he  introduces  as  supplemental  to  the 
other  Evanarelists,  are  such  as  set  his  beloved  master  in 
the  most  amiable  and  graceful  pomt  of  view,  such  as 
a  favorite  disciple  would  be  most  likely  to  select,  and 
most  disposed  to  enlarge  upon.  Of  this  kind,  for  in- 
stance, are  our  Saviour's  discourse  with  the  woman  of 
Samaria ;  the  cure  of  the  infirm  man  at  the  pool  of 
Bethesday  ;  the  acquittal  of  the  woman  taken  in  adul- 
tery ;  the  description  of  the  good  shepherd  and  his 
sheep  ;  the  affecting  history  of  Lazarus  ;  the  conde- 
scending and  expressive  act  of  washing  his  disciples' 
feet ;  his  inimitably  tender  and  consolatory  discourse 
to  them  just  before  his  suffering  ;  his  most  admirable 
prayer  on  the  same  occasion  ;  and  his  pathetic  recom- 
mendation of  his  sheep  to  St.  Peter  after  his  resurrec- 
tion. These  passages  are  to  be  found  only  in  St. 
John's  Gospel,  and  Vvhoever  reads  them  with  attention 
will  discover  in  them  plain  indications  not  only  of  a 
heaven-directed  hand,  but  of  a  feehng  and  a  grateful 
heart,  smitten  with  the  love  of  a  departed  friend,  pene- 
trated with  a  sense  of  his  distinguished  kindness,  per- 
fectly well  informed  and  thoroughly  ir.terested,  in  every 
tender  scene  that  it  describes,  soothing  itself  with  the 
recollection  of  little  domestic  incidents  and  familiar 
conversations,  and  tracing  out  not  only  the  larger  and 
more  obvious  features  of  the  favorite  character,  but 

*  John  xix.  26,  27. 


.230  SERMON  XVIII. 

even  those  finer  and  more  delicate  strokes  in  it,  •vvliich 
would  have  eluded  a  less  observing  eye,  or  less  fluth- 
ful  memory,  than  those  of  a  beloved  companion  and 
friend. 

From  this  short  detail  it  appears,  that  there  sub- 
sisted between  our  Saviour  and  St.  John  a  real,  sincere, 
and  tender  friendship  :  and  this  fact  being  established, 
will  furnish  us  with  some  remarks,  of  no  small  import- 
ance to  religion  and  to  ourselves. 

The  first  is,  that  friendship  is  perfectly  consistent 
with  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  practice  of  every 
duty  that  it  requires  at  our  hands.  Who,  indeed, 
but  must  grieve  if  it  was  not  ?  Who  but  would  grieve 
to  find,  that,  in  order  to  arrive  at  happiness  in  the  next 
world,  it  is  necessary  to  renounce  one  of  the  greatest 
blessings  that  can  be  possessed  in  this  ?  For  although, 
indeed,  both  the  merits  and  the  pleasures  of  friendship 
ha^^e  been  sometimes,  by  ancient  as  well  as  modern 
writers,  most  extravagantly  and  injudiciously  magni- 
fied ;  yet,  after  all,  it  must  be  allowed,  that  when  it  is 
formed  on  right  principles,  and  conducted  with  sobri- 
ety and  good  sense,  there  is  something  in  it  so  soothing, 
so  congenial  to  the  human  mind  ;  it  is  what  the  very 
best  of  men  have  been  always  so  strongly  disposed  to 
cultivate  and  cherish ;  it  so  improves  every  enjoyment, 
and  so  lightens  every  misfortune  ;  it  is  associated  gCN- 
erally  with  so  many  excellent  qualities  ;  it  gives  birth 
to  so  many  generous  sentiments,  so  many  noble  and 
disinterested  actions  ;  it  is,  in  short,  though  not  a  vir~ 
tue,  yet  something  so  'very  like  a  virtue,  that  no  one, 
who  has  ever  tasted  the  genuine  satisfaction  it  affords, 
can  willingly  consent  to  part  with  it.  He  cannot  easi- 
ly be  brought  to  believe  that  a  religion,  which  not  only 
allows  but  improves  and  exahs  every  innocent  and  ra- 
tional enjoyment,  should  in  this  single  instance  assume 
a  tone  of  rigor  quite  foreip:n  to  its  natural  temper,  and 
preclude  us  from  one  of  the  s'»veetest  consolations  that 
has  ever  yet  been  found  out  for  the  various  afflictions 
of  life.  And  in  fact  there  is  no  need  for  any  such  ap- 
prehensions.    The  example  of  our  Lord  himself  is 


SERMON  XVIII.  231 

alone  sufliclent  to  satisfy  us  on  this  head.  If  He  had 
his  beloved  companion  and  friend,  we  cannot  surely 
be  acting  contrary  to  his  sentiments,  if  we  also  have 
ours. 

But  whence  then,  it  is  said,  that  remarkable  silence 
of  the  Gospel  on  this  subject  ?  How  comes  it  to  pass,' 
that  on  the  article  of  friendship,  which  has  so  much 
exercised  the  eloquence  of  Pagan  writers,  not  one  syl- 
lable is  to  be  found  in  the  v.hole  New  Testament,  not 
one  precept  or  direction,  not  even  the  smallest  degree 
of  commendation  bestowed  upon  it  ?  The  answer  is 
obvious.  To  have  made  friendship  a  necessary  part 
of  Christian  obedience,  would  have  been  preposterous 
and  absurd.  For  that  similarity  of  disposition,  and 
coincidence  of  sentiment  and  afiection,  on  which 
friendship  is  founded,  do  not  depend  solely  on  our  own 
choice,  are  not  under  the  direction  of  our  own  will ; 
and  therefore  could  not  possibly  be  the  proper  objects 
of  a  divine  command.  Nor  ^\  ould  it  have  been  pru- 
dent to  have  expressed  in  the  Gospel  any  particular  ap- 
probation of  this  connection.  It  might  have  inflamed 
that  propensity  to  it  which  nature  had  already  made 
sufficiently  strong,  and  whicli  tl>e  injudicious  encom- 
iums of  heathen  moralistc  had  raised  to  a  romantic  and 
a  dangerous  height.  Car  divine  lawgiver  showed  his 
w  isdom  equally  in  what  he  enjoined,  and  what  he  left 
unnoticed.  He  knew  exactly,  what  no  Pagan  philos- 
opher ever  knew,  where  to  be  silent  and  where  to  speak. 
It  was  not  his  intention,  it  v.as  Indeed  far  below  his 
dignity,  to  say  fine  things  upon  popular  subjects  ; 
pleasing  perhaps  to  a  few,  but  utterly  useless  to  the 
bulk  of  mankind.  His  objec:  was  of  a  much  more 
important  and  extensive  nature  :  to  inculcate  the  plain, 
humble,  practical  duties  of  piety  and  morality  ;  the  du- 
ties that  were  of  universal  concern  and  indispensible 
obligation,  such  as  were  essentially  necessary  to  our 
well-being  in  this  life,  and  our  everlasting  happiness 
in  the  next.  Now  the  warmest  admirers  of  friendship 
cannot  pretend  to  raise  it  into  a  duty,  much  less  into  a 
duty  of  this  high  rank.     It  is  a  delightful,  it  is  an  ami- 


232  SERMON  XVIII. 

able,  it  is  often  a  laudable  attachment ;  but  it  is  nat 
a  necessary  requisite  either  to  the  present  welfare  or 
the  future  salvatiyn  of  mankind  in  general,  and  conse- 
quently is  not  of  sufficient  importance  to  deserve  a 
distinct  place  in  the  Christian  system.  The  utmost 
that  could  be  done  there  was  to  show  (and  it  was  suffi- 
ciently shown  by  the  example  of  our  Lord)  that  a  vir- 
tuous friendship  does  not  militate  against  the  spkit  of 
his  religion  ;  but  is,  on  the  contrary,  as  we  shall  see 
presently,  improved  and  exalted  b}^  its  precepts,  and 
finds  in  them  its  best  foundation  and  its  firmest  support. 
From  the  mere  silence  then  of  the  Gospel  on  this 
subject,  no  inference  can  be  justly  drawn  against  the 
lawfulness  of  friendship.  But  it  is  urged  further  (and 
it  is  a  circumstance  which  seems  to  have  had  much 
weight  with  some  very  ingenious  defenders  of  Revela- 
tion*) that  it  was  one  great  object  of  the  Christian 
religion  to  introduce  into  the  world  a  temper  of  uni- 
versal benevolence  and  good- will  ;  and  with  that  view 
its  business  was,  not  to  contract^  but  to  expand  our  af- 
fections as  mucli  as  possible ;  to  throw  down  all  the 
little  mean  fences  and  partitions,  within  which  the  hu- 
man heart  is  too  apt  to  intrench  itself,  and  lay  it  open 
to  nobler  vievi'S,  and  a  larger  and  more  liberal  sphere  of 
action.  Hence  it  is  imagined,  that  friendship  must 
necessarily  be  inconsistent  with  the  genius  of  that  reli- 
gion, because  it  lavishes  on  one  object  all  that  kindness 
and  affection  which  ought  to  be  diffused  among  the 
whole  human  race.  And,  indeed,  if  friendship  would 
be  content  v.ith  nothing  less  than  the  surrender  of  our 
whole  stock  of  benevolence,  without  the  least  reserve 
for  the  rest  of  our  fciiow  creatures,  it  might  v,  ell  be 
deemed  a  monopoly  altogether  incompatible  with  that 
free  and  general  commerce  of  good  offices,  which  the 
Gospel  certainly  meant  to  extend  to  every  quarter  of 
the  globe.  But  this  surely  is  far  from  being  a  true 
state  of  the  case.  We  may  discharge  every  tender 
office  that  friendship  can  demand,  without  neglecting 
any  of  those  social  duties  vrhich  Revelation  enjoins. 

*  Partiailarlv  the  late  Mr.  Scame  Jin;  ns. 


SERMON  XVIIT.  233 

There  are  various  gradations  of  afTection,  correspond- 
ing to  the  various  relations  of  life,  all  in  perfect  con- 
cord one  ^vith  another,  and  contributing  each  their 
respective  parts  towards  the  ccn^posilion  of  that  harmo- 
ny which  ought  to  reign  tiiroughout  the  whole.  Con- 
nubial tenderness,  filial  affection,  fraternal  fondness, 
parental  ]r /e,  all  these  are  /?a;v/<:7/ attachments,  no  less- 
tlian  friendship,  yet  these  most  certainly  the  Gospel 
does  not  forbid.  Why  then  should  friendship  be 
thought  less  reconcileable  than  these  with  the  temper 
of  our  religion  ?  The  truth  is,  the  design  of  Chris- 
tianity was  not  to  extinguish^  but  to  regulate  orAy,  and 
reduce  to  their  proper  dimensions,  all  our  private  and 
personal  connections.  Within  the  wide  circumference 
of  Christian  charity,  it  allow  s  us  to  form  as  many 
smaller  circles  of  bene\^oIence  as  we  please.  It  requires 
only  that  our  affections  5>hould  move  in  them  under 
the  control  of  that  sovereign  law  of  universal  love, 
which,  like  the  great  principle  of  attraction  iri  the 
nraterial  world,  is  diffused  throughout  our  moral  svs- 
tem,  to  guide,  direct,  and  regulate  the  whole,  and  to 
restrain  within  proper  limits  every  subordinate  senti- 
ment and  inferior  movement  of  the  soul.  Under 
these  restrictions,  so  far  is  Christianity  from  being  nd- 
"oerse  to  any  virtuous  connections,  that  it  actually  pro- 
vides a  remedy  for  the  greatest  imperfection  under 
which  they  labor.  It  does,  what  in  the  fond  hour  of 
affection  has  been  often  wished,  but,  till  the  Gospel 
appeared,  wished  in  vain  ;  it  renders  our  friendsliips 
immortal.  Itrevi\'es  tlii.t  uiuon  which  death  seems  to 
dissolve  ;  it  restores  us  again  to  those  whom  we  most 
dearly  loved,  in  that  blessed  society  of  "  just  men 
*'  made  perfect,"  which  is  to  form,  probably,  one  great 
part  of  Gurfelicitv  in  heaven. 

IF.  But  secondly  ;  llie  cxar.^.ple  of  our  Lord,  in  se- 
lecting one  beloved  disciple,  does  not  only  give  liis 
snidion  tofriendsliip,  but  it  teaclics  us  also' what  sort 
of  friendship  it  is  that  he  allov.s  and  authorizes.  Tor, 
whatever  those  qualities  were  v. Iiich  attracted  his  no- 
tire,  and  conciliLited  his  affection,  In  the  person  of  St. 

F  f 


234  SERMON  XVIII. 

John,  these,  we  may  be  sure,  are  the  pfoiper  constitir-- 
ents  of  a  legitimate,  a  Christian  friendship.  Now  it 
does  not  appear  that  St.  John  was  distinguished  by  any 
of  those  showy  intellectual  accomplishments  which  are 
of  all  others  most  apt  to  strike  our  fancy  and  captivate 
our  hearts,  although,  in  fact,  they  are  often  much  bet- 
ter calculated  for  the  amusement  of  a  convivial  hour, 
than  for  that  constant  fund  of  comfort  and  satisfaction 
through  life,  which  we  naturally  expect  from  a  well- 
formed  friendship.  That  which  principally  attracts  our 
notice,  in  his  \vritings,  and  in  his  conduct,  is  a  sim- 
plicity and  singleness  of  heart,  a  fervent  piety,  an  un- 
bounded benevolence,  an  unaffected  modesty,  humili- 
ty, meelmess,  and  gentleness  of  disposition.  These 
are  evidently  the  great  characteristic  virtues  that  took 
the  lead  in  his  soul,  and  break  forth  in  every  page  of 
his  Gospel  and  his  Epistles.  These  then  are  the  qual- 
ities we  ought  principally  to  regard  in  the  choice  of 
our  friends,  and  to  cultivate  in  ourselves,  if  we  would 
t^.onciliate  and  preserve  their  affections.  Now  it  is  very 
observable,  tliat  these  qualities  are  the  very  virtues 
which  are  properly  styled  eiiangelkaly  which  the  Chris- 
tian revelation  more  particularly  recommends,  and 
which  distinguish  it  from  all  other  religions  that  ever 
appeared  in  the  world.  A  friendship,  tiierefbre,  foun- 
ded on  these  principles,  is,  strictly  and  properly  speak- 
ing, a  Christian  fricruhbip,  and  it  Aviii  be  the  direct 
opposite  of  those  celebrated  instances  of  Pagan  friend- 
ship, of  which  we  hear  so  much  in  ancient  story. 
The  characteristics  of  these  commonly  were,  a  haugh- 
ty and  overbearing  spirit  ;  a  vindictive,  implacable, 
and  ininetucus  tem.per;  an  intrepidity  superior  to 
every  danger,  and  every  consideration  of  justice,  hon- 
«.'sty,  and  humanity,  in  behalf  of  those  partners  in 
their  iniquity  v.'hom  they  chuse  to  call  their  friends. 
Such  wild  extra varancies  as  these,  as  well  as  those  - 
confederacies  in  vice,  Mhich  young  men,  even  now 
i:0metime3  compliment  \\ii\\  tlie  name  of  friendship, 
are  indeed  diametrically  opposite  to  the  genius  of  Chris- 
tianity.    But  it  Arould  be  as  unfeir  to  take  our  ideas  of 


SERMON  XVIII.  235 

friendship  from  llicsc  corrupt  perversions  of  it,  as  to 
form  our  notions  of  liberty  from  the  excesses  of  a 
lawless  rabble,  or  our  sentiments  of  religion  from  the 
ravings  of  a  delirious  enthusiast.  To  know  what 
friendship  really  is,  we  must  look  for  it  in  that  sacred 
repository  of  every  thing  great  and  excellent,  the  Gos- 
pel of  Christ.  We  shall  there  not  only  see  it  actually 
existing  in  its  utmost  perfection  in  the  person  of 
Christ  and  his  beloved  disciple  ;  but  ^ve  shall  find  that 
almost  all  the  virtues  on  which  his  religion  lays  the 
greatest  stress,  have  a  natural  tendency  to  generate  it 
in  our  souls.  Examine  only  the  several  branches  of 
benevolence,  as  they  lie  in  the  sacred  writings,  and 
especially  in  that  exquisite  picture  of  charity  which  is 
drawn  by  the  masterly  hand  of  St.  Paul*,  and  you  will 
perceive  that  nothing  is  more  easy  than  to  graft  upon 
them  a  firm  and  lasting  friendship.  They  contain  all 
the  right  princii^les  and  rudiments  of  that  delightful 
sentiment  ;  and  these  being  once  fairly  laid  before  the 
world,  every  man  was  left  (as  it  was  fit  he  should  be)  to 
make  the  application  of  them  himself,  at  his  own  dis- 
cretion, to  the  purposes  of  friendly  union,  according  a,s 
inclination  led,  or  opportunity  invited  him.  There 
can  want  nothing  more  than  the  concurrence  of  two 
congenial  minds,  to  kindle  these  sparks  of  friendship, 
into  a  flame,  much  purer,  I  apprehend  and  brighter, 
and  more  permanent,  than  ever  glowed  within  the  breast 
of  a  heathen. 

From  the  whole  then  of  this  inquir}',  it  appears, 
that  whoever  cultivates  the  duties  prescribed  by  the 
Gospel,  will  be  of  all  others  the  best  qualified  for  a  vir- 
tuous friendship.  But  what  is  of  far  more  consequence 
to  the  world  in  general,  he  will  also  be  the  best  qualifi- 
ed to  live  happily  without  it.  Friendship  is  a  blessing, 
which  like  many  others  in  this  world,  falls  to  the  lot  of 
few.  It  depends  so  much  on  constitution,  on  accident, 
on  a  concurrence  of  circumstances  which  so  rarelv 
meet,  and  which  no  one  can  command,  that  by  fin-  the 
.greater  part  of  mankind   pass  through  the  world,  and 

•  1  Cor.  xiii. 


236  SERMON   XVIII. 

pass  through  it  very  comfortably  too,  without  ever  hav- 
ing the  good  fortune  to  find  that  person  whom  they 
can  ^vith  strict  propriety  cali  a  friend.  Had  then  the 
Gospel  given  ever  so  many  precepts  or  directions  on 
the  subject  of  friendship  ;  to  a  few  refined  philosophic 
minds  they  might  perhaps  have  been  of  some  use. 
But  it  was  not  for  these  only,  it  was  for  the  multitude 
also,  for  the  people  at  large,  that  the  Gospel  was  de- 
signed. And  to  these  it  must  be  no  small  satisfaction 
to  find,  that  a  connection  which  they  often  want  the 
inclination,  and  oftener  still  the  power,  to  form,  is  not 
enjoined,  is  not  recommended,  is  not  even  mention- 
ed, in  the  Gospel,  and  that  they  may  go  to  heaven 
extremely  well  without  it.  A  faithful  friend  is  indeed, 
as  the  son  of  Sirach  no  less  justly  than  elegantly  ex- 
presses it,  the  medicine  of  life'-.  And  happy  they  are 
%vho  find  it.  But  to  those  who  do  not,  or  by  any  fatal 
accident  are  deprived  of  it,  Christianity  has  other  med- 
icines, other  consolations  in  store.  It  has  pleasures  to 
bestow,  which  will  amply  countervail  those  of  the  sin- 
cerest  and  firmest  friendship.  It  gives  that  peace  of 
mind,  which  nothing  in  this  Vvorld,  not  even  friendship 
itself  can  give.  It  secures  to  us  the  favor  of  that  Be- 
ing, who  is  able  to  be  our  friend  indeed.  Our  earthly 
friends  may  deceive,  may  desert  us,  m.ay  be  separated 
from  us,  may  be  converted  into  our  bitterest  enemies. 
But  our  heavenl}^  friend  has  declai'ed  (and  he  is  one 
that  may  be  trusted)  that  if  we  adhere  faithfully  to 
him,  he  will  never  leave  us  nor  forsake  usf .  It  is,  in 
short,  in  every  man's  pov.er  to  be,  if  he  pleases, 
though  not  precisely  in  the  same  sense  that  St.  John 
was,  yet  in  a  very  important  sense,  the  friend  of  Christ. 
We  have  our  Saviour's  own  word  for  it.  "  Ye  are  my 
*'  friends,"  says  he  to  his  disciples,  "  If  ye  do  vvhat- 
*'  soever  I  command  you;]:."  Nay,  he  has  assured  us 
that  he  vvill  consider  e\ery  real  Christian  as  united  to 
him  by  still  closer  ties.  This  assurance  is  given  us 
in  one  of  those  noble  strains  of  divine  eloquence 
which  are  so  common   in  the  sacred  writings.     Our 

*  Eccles.  xi.  16.  X  ^'^'^-  '^"i-  ^'  4  J°^"^  ^^''  ■^^'* 


SERMON  XVIII.  237 

Lord  being-  tolcl  tliat  his  mother  and  his  brethren  stood 
without,  desiring  to  speak  with  him,  he  gives  a  turn  to 
this  httle  incident,  perfectly  new,  and  inexpressibly- 
tender  and  affectionate.  "  Who  is  my  modicr  ?"  says 
he,  "  and  who  are  my  brethren  ?  And  he  stretched 
*'  forth  his  hand  towards  his  disciples,  and  snid,  Behold 
*'  my  mother,  and  my  brethren.  For  whosoever  shall 
*'  do  the  will  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven,  the 
"  same  is  my  brother,  and  sister,  and  mother*." 

•  Matth.  xii.  46—50. 


ffga»qf»^Bag»a>g— »7WBi^r— <wgBg»— i^iirwaaw.  jhimfLX-m 


SERMON  XIX. 

Philippians  iv.  4. 

Rejoice  m  the  Lord  alway  :  and  again  I  say,  Rejoice. 

AMONG  the  many  ej^pedients  put  in  practice  by 
the  enemies  of  our  ReUgion,  to  obstruct  its 
progress,  and  to  counteract  its  influence,  it  is  no  un- 
common one,  to  set  before  the  eyes  of  mankind  a  most 
frightful  picture  of  Christianity,  and  to  represent  it  as 
a  stern,  austere,  uncomfortable,  gloomy  religion,  ad- 
verse to  all  the  innocent  enjoyments  of  life,  and  to  all 
the  natural  desires  and  propensities  of  the  human 
mind.  As  a  proof  of  this,  we  are  referred  to  those 
injunctions  of  mortiiication  and  self-denial,  of  pein- 
tence,  contrition,  and  remorse,  of  abstinence  from. 
j)leasure  and  enmity  to  the  world,  which  occur  some- 
limes  in  the  sacred  writings  ;  and  to  those  seasons, 
v.hich  in  conformity  to  the  spirit  of  such  injunctions, 
have,  by  the  authority  of  particular  churches,  been  set 
i\part  for  the  purposes  of  retirement  and  abstinence, 
recollection  and  devotion.  That  precepts  of  this  im- 
port are  to  be  found  in  the  Gospel,  and  that  they  carry 
Vv'ith  them  some  appearance  of  rigor,  we  do  not  deny. 
But  it  requires  only  a  very  small  share  of  discernment 
to  perceive,  and  of  candor  to  acknowledge,  that  this 
is  nothing  7nore  than  appearance.  It  is  very  true,  it  is 
TiOt  to  be  dissembled;  the  Gospel  does  m.ost  certainly 
require  us  to  renounce  some  things,  Vvhich  the  man  of 
llic  world  may  not  be  very  willing  to  part  with.  But 
v.hp.t  are  these  things  ?  They  are  those  lusts  which  ^var 
against  the  soul  :  they  are  those  selfish  desires,  which 


SERiMON  XIX.  239* 

contract,  and  narrow,  and  harden  the  heart  :  they  are 
those  hateful  anfl  turbulent  passions,  uhich  fill  the 
mind  with  disquiet,  and  the  world  w ith  disorder  ;  they 
are  those  predominant  vices  and  follies,  those  danger- 
ous and  destructive  amusements,  which  destroy  all 
composure  of  mind,  all  purity  of  sentiment  and  dignity 
of  conduct,  and  plunge  us  in  expense,  dissipation,  and 
ruin.  These  are  the  things  which  we  are  required  to 
mortif}%  to  deny,  to  subdue,  to  repent  of,  to  renounce  ; 
and  if  these  are  the  hardships  complained  of,  to  these 
indeed  we  must  submit.  But  to  accuse  the  Gospel  of 
severity  on  this  account,  would  be  just  as  rational  and 
as  equitable  as  to  charge  the  surgeon  w  ith  cruelty  for 
amputating  a  gangrened  limb,  or  the  physician  \\  iih 
ill-nature  for  prescribing  a  strict  regim.en  and  a  course 
of  searching  medicines  to  a  patient  bloated  w  ith  dis- 
ease. We  have  reason  on  the  contrary  to  bless  the 
skilful  hand,  that,  by  any  operations,  however  painful, 
by  any  remedies,  however  unpalatable,  condescends  to 
preserve  or  to  restore  the  health  of  tlie  soul.  The 
truth  is,  the  very  cruelties  of  Christianity  (if  they  may 
be  called  so)  arc  tender  mercies.  Far  from  inspiring 
gloom  and  melancholy,  or  rendering  our  existence  un- 
comfortable, they  are,  in  fact,  the  only  solid  foundation 
of  true  cheerfulness.  Of  all  men  living,  thos<^ are  the 
most  wretched  and  comfortless,  w  ha  are  the  slaves  of 
their  passions.  Slavery  of  every  kind,  and  this  above 
all  others,  has  a  natural  tendency  to  debase  and  de- 
grade the  soul,  and  to  render  it  abject,  mean,  and 
spiritless.  And  till  (as  the  Gospel  rec;Liires)  we  have  re- 
solutely emancipated  ourselves  from  this  wretched  state 
of  spiritual  servitude,  we  must  never  hope  for  any  lart-ting 
peace  or  tranquillity  of  mind.  Cheerfulness  is  the 
privilege  of  innocence  and  virtue.  The  vicious  and 
impeniient  have  no  pretensions  to  it.  They  may,  in- 
deed, have  transient  gleams  of  gaiety  and  mirdi  :  but 
these  are  far  different  ironi  that  calm,  serene,  and  con- 
stant sunshine,  w  hieh  religious  checrfainess  sheds  over 
the  soul.  The  sorrow  s  of  repentance  may  somtimes 
cast  a  temporary  shade  around  it  ;  but  it  tsoou  breiitka 


240  SERMON  XIX. 

out  again  with  redoubled  splendor.  "  Heaviness  may 
*'  endure  for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  in  the  morning." 
The  struggle  witii  our  depraved  appetites  may,  per- 
haps, for  a  time,  be  painful  enough;  but  if  wc  quit 
ourselves  like  men,  it  will  soon  be  decided  in  our  favor ; 
and  then  all  our  difficulties  are  at  an  end.  From  tliat 
moment,  "  the  ways  of  Religion  are  ways  of  pleasant- 
*'  nessand  all  her  paths  are  peace."  Christianity  ex- 
cludes us  from  no  rational,  no  harmless  enjoyment. 
It  does  not  spread  before  us  a  delicioriS  banquet,  and 
then  come  with  a  "  touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not." 
All  it  requires  is,  that  our  festivity  degenerate  not  into 
intemperance  ;  our  amusements  into  dissipation  ;  our 
freedom  into  licentiousness.  Thoiio-h  it  bids  us  "  not 
"  to  love  the  world"  extravaq-antlv,  nor  "  to  conform 
*'  to  it"  criminally,  yet  it  no  where  enjoins  us  to  flee 
from  it ;  but  rather  after  the  example  of  our  blessed 
Lord,  tohveinit,  and  to  overcome  it.  A  sullen,  sol- 
itary, indolent  retirement,  is  far  from  being  conibrma- 
ble  to  the  true  spirit  and  temper  of  our  religion,  which 
is  active,  lively,  and  animated  throughout.  Consider 
its  precepts,  consider  the  example  of  those  who  taught 
it,  and  you  will  find  that  the  predominant  quality  in 
both  is  an  UNIFORM,  unremitted,  cheerfulness. 
John  the  Baptist,  it  is  true,  the  precursor,  and  herald 
of  the  Gospel,  assumed  the  appearance  of  austerity 
and  rigor.  He  came,  "  neither  eating  nor  drinking. 
"  He  lived  in  the  wilderness,  had  his  raiment  of  cam- 
"  els  hair,  and  a  leathern  eirdle  about  his  loins,  and  his 
*'  meat  was  locusts  and  v.ild  honey."  A  very  proper 
demeanor  this  for  him,  -whose  province  it  was  to  pre- 
.pare  the  minds  of  men  for  the  Gospel,  by  repentance 
and  self-denial,  to  till  and  dress  the  soil,  to  kill  in  it 
every  rank  and  noxious  weed,  to  render  it  clean  and 
pure,  and  moist  with  the  tears  of  contrition,  fit  for  the 
reception  of  that  good  seed  which  his  illustrious  fol- 
lower was  in  a  short  time  coming  to  sow  in  it.  Vv'^heu 
HE  appeared,  the  scene  Vvas  changed.  The  Saviour 
of  the  world  came  (as  he  himself  is  pleased  to  express 
iO  "  eating  and  drinking."     He   came  with  all  the 


SERMON  XIX.  241 

marks  of  good-humor  and  good-will  to  msn.  He 
\\  cnt  to  marriage  feasts.  Tlie  very  first  miracle  he 
worked  was,  to  promote  their  cheerfulness  :  and  he 
mingled  in  those  happy  meetings  with  so  much  case 
and  freedom,  with  so  little  affectation  of  moroseness 
or  reserve,  that  his  enemies  gave  him  the  name  (a  name 
whicli  he  treated  vvitli  the  most  sovereign  contempt) 
*'  of  a  gluttonous  man,  and  a  wine-bibiDcr,  a  friend  of 
"  publicans  and  sinners*."  Every  mark  of  respect 
and  attention  that  was  shown  him,  he  accepted  with 
the  most  engaging  and  graceful  condescension  ;  noc 
did  he  even  disdain  the  rich  perfume,  which  the  libe- 
ral hand  of  Mar}^  poured  upon  him,  notwithstanding 
the  ill-timed  murmurs  of  his  more  fastidious  followers. 
Although  he  himself,  by  his  own  example,  plainly 
countenanced  the  practice  of  fasting  at  proper  times, 
and  under  proper  restrictions,  yet  he  would  not  suffer 
his  disciples  to  fast  while  he  was  witli  them.  The  time 
would  come,  he  told  them,  when  they  would  have 
abundant  occasion  to  fast.  But  when  the  bridegroom 
was  with  them,  they  ought  to  know  nothing  but  joy  ; 
and  that  joy  should  not  be  interrupted  by  unseasona- 
ble severities  and  anticipated  sorrows.  He  reproved 
the  hypocritical  Pharisees  for  the  ostentatious  sadness 
of  their  countenances  on  such  accasions  ;  and  enjoin- 
ed his  own  followers,  \vhenever  they  did  practise  an 
extraordinary  abstemiousness,  to  preserve  even  in  the 
niidst  of  their  humiliations,  their  wonted  neatness  of 
attire  and  cheerfulness  of  appearance.  "  The  hvpo- 
"  crites,"  says  he,  "  disfigure  their  fiices,  that  they 
"  may  appear  unto  men  to  fast :  but  thou,  when  thou 
"  fastest,  anoint  thine  head  and  wash  thy  face :  that; 
"  thou  appear  not  unto  men  to  fast,  but  unto  thy  Fa- 
"  ther  which  is  in  secret:  and  thy  Father  which  sceth 
"  in  secret,  shall  reward  thee  openlyf."  His  dis- 
courses were  of  a  piece  with  his  deportment :  they 
Vvcre  soothing,  comfortable,  refreshing.  The  form  of 
words,  which  he  made  use  of  generally  when  he  cured 
diseases,  was,  "  Son  be  of  good  cheer,  diy  sins  be 

•  Matth.  xi.  19.  t  Matth.  t'i.  1(3,  17. 

G  sr 


242  SERMON  XIX. 


*' forgiven  thee."  He  was  constantly  endeavoring  to- 
support  the  drooping  spirits  of  his  disciples  by  the  most 
encourageing  expressions  ;  and  v>  hen  he  found  himself 
at  length  obliged  to  explain  to  them  the  hardships  they 
were  to  undergo  for  his  sake,  the  conclusion  was,  "  In 
*'  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation  ;  but  be  of  good 
"  cheer;   I  have  overcome  the  world*." 

The  same  spirit  diffused  itself  to  the  apostles,  evan- 
gelists, and  disciples,  who  maintained,  throughout  the 
whole  course  of  their  ministry,  a  certain  vigor  and  vi- 
vacity of  mind,  which  no  calamity  could  depress. 
Their  writings  are  full  of  exhortations  "  to  rejoice 
"  evermore  ;  to  show  mercy  with  cheerfulness  ;  to 
"  count  it  all  joy,  even  when  we  fill  into  temptation." 
The  language  of  the  text,  the  language  of  the  whole 
Gospel,  is,  "  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  ahvay  :  and  again  I 
"  say.  Rejoice."  Hence  it  is  plain,  that  a  constant 
cheerfulness  is  the  distinguishing  character  of  the 
Christian  religion  :  that  it  animated  both  the  precepts 
and  the  conduct  of  those  who  taught  it,  and  was  con- 
sidered by  them  as  a  necessary  concomitant  in  the  per- 
formance of  every  part  of  our  duty. 

But  the  Gospel  does  not  stop  here.  It  not  only 
commands  us  to  be  cheerful ;  this  it  might  very  easily 
do  ;  but  what  is  of  still  more  importance,  it  assists  us^ 
in  becoming  so  ;  it  affords  the  best  and  most  effectual 
helps  toward  obtaining  that  happy  and  satisfied  temper, 
that  constant  serenity  and  composure  of  mind,  with- 
out which  ail  the  v/ealth  and  grandeur  of  the  world  are 
insipid  and  worthless  things. 

I.  The  first  assistance  of  this  kind  it  gives  us  is,  that 
constant  and  enlivening  employment  which  it  finds  for 
our  thoughts.  The  human  mind,  we  all  know,  is  rest- 
less and  active  ;  and  if  not  otherwise  engaged,  wilt 
turn  its  activity  inward,  will  prey  upon  and  devour  it- 
self, and  become  the  destroyer  of  its  own  happiness, 
A  very  large  proportion  of  the  evils  which  press  the 
heaviest  upon  us,  are  purely  imaginary,  are  the  creation 
of  our  own  hands,  and  arise  from  no  other  cause  thaii^ 

*  John  xvi.  irS. 


SERMON  XIX.  243 

the  having  nothing  else  to  do,    l^ut  to  sit  clown   and 
make  ourselves  as  miserabl,  as  u  e  possil^ly  can.     One 
great  means,   therefore,  of  promoting  cheerfulness  is, 
to  keep  our  thoughts  constantly  and  usefully  employed. 
The  pursuit  of  any  important  and  worthy  object  is  in 
itself  enlivening.     Every  advance  we  make  in  it,  is  a 
new  accession  of  pleasure  ;   we  feel  ourselves  animated 
with  a  grraving  de'igl't ;   and  go  on  with  increasing  ar- 
dor and  alacrity  to  the  attainment  of  the  end  we  have 
in  view.     A  succession  of  worldly  pleasures  and  oc- 
cupations may,  for  a  time,  engage  our  attention  ;   but 
that  delusion  is  soon  over,  and  they  leave  a  void  behind 
which  nothing  can  fill  up,  but  those  great  and  noble 
purposes  of  action  which  the  Gospel   presents   to   our 
minds  :   the  conquest  of  our   passions  ;  the  improve- 
ment of  our  nature  ;   the  exaltation   of  our  affections  ; 
the  diffasion  of  happiness  to  every  human  being  within 
our  reach  ;  the  attainment  of  God's  flivor  and  protec- 
tion here,  and  of  everlasting  glory  and  happiness  here- 
after.    These  are  objects  worthy  of  a  rational  and  im- 
mortal being  ;  these  wilt  find  ample  employment  for 
all  the  fliculties  and  powers  of  his  mind  ;  and  the  high- 
er his  rank  and  abilities  are,  the  more  will  his  duties 
multiply  upon  him,  and  the  sphere  of  his  activity  en- 
large itself.     Whoever,    in  short,  engages   in   earnest 
in  the  Christian  warfare,  whoever  presses  on  with  zeal 
and  ardor  towards  the  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high 
calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  "  forgetting  those 
"  things  that  are  behind,  reaches  forth   to  those   that 
'*  are  before,"  will  never  find  either   his  attention  or 
his  spirits  droop.     He   will  be  continually   animated 
with  new  prospects,  elated  with  new  acquisitions,  re- 
warded with  new  triumphs,  and  will  know  nothing  of 
that  langour  and  flatness,  that  gloom  and   melancholy, 
which  are  so  apt  to  seize  upon  unoccupied  minds. 

II.  Whoever  suffers  himself  to  be  brought  under  the 
dominion  of  any  malignant  passion,  envy,  malice,  hatred 
jealousy,  or  revenge,  must  from  that  moment,  bid  adieu 
to  peace  and  cheerfulness.  These  odious  tyrants  arc 
all  most  fatal  enemies  to  our  repose.     They  thro\v  the 


244  SERMON  XIX. 

mind  into  a  perpetual  ferment  and  agitation  ;  they  ha- 
rass it  with  a  succession  of  malevolent  sentiments  and 
vindictive  designs  ;  they  keep  it  in  a  constant  fever  of 
resentment,  and  allow  it  no  rest.  The  man  possessed 
by  these  wicked  spirits  "  sleeps  not,  except  he  has 
*' done  mischief :  his  sleep  is  taken  away,  unless  he 
**  cause  some  to  fall*^."  Everyone  must  see,  that  a 
state  of  mind  like  this  must  exclude  all  enjoyment  of 
life  ;  must  produce  a  sullen  gloominess  of  disposition, 
which  no  ray  of  cheerfulness  can  penetrate  or  enliven. 

When,  therefore,  Christianity  exhorts  us  to  put 
away  "all  bitterness,  wrath,  anger,  clamor,  evil-speak- 
ing, and  malice,"  it  prescribes  one  most  effectual  re- 
medy against  disquietude  and  dejection  of  mind.  And 
when  it  further  recommends,  in  the  room  of  these  pas- 
sions, to  substitute  sentiments  of  mercy,  kindness, 
meekness,  gentleness,  compassion,  brotherly  affection, 
charity  ;  when  it  commands  us  to  feed  the  hungry, 
clothe  the  naked,  visit  the  sick,  and  pour  oil  into 
the  wounds  of  the  afflicted  and  distressed,  it  points  out 
to  us  the  most  effectual  means,  not  only  to  make  others 
happy,  but  ourselves  also. 

In  fact,  true  Christian  charity,  in  all  its  extent,  is  a 
never-failing  fund  of  pleasure  to  the  soul.  The  joy 
resulting  from  the  diffusion  of  blessings  to  all  around 
us,  is  the  purest  and  sublimest  that  can  enter  the  hu- 
man mind,  and  can  be  conceived  only  by  those  who 
have  experienced  it.  Next  to  the  consolations  of  di- 
vine grace,  it  is  the  most  sovereign  balm  to  the  mise- 
ries of  life,  both  in  him  who  is  the  object  of  it,  and  in 
him  who  exercises  it ;  and  it  will  not  only  soothe  and 
tranquillize  a  troubled  spirit,  but  inspire  a  constant 
flow  of  good  humor,  content,  and  gaiety  of  heart. 

III.  Another  source  of  cheerfulness  to  be  found  in 
the  Gospel  is,  that  most  comfortable  doctrine  of  a  par- 
ticular Providence,  which  is  there  set  forth  in  the  clear- 
est and  most  unequivocal  terms.  It  is  impossible  for 
any  thinking  man,  who  supposes  that  the  world,  and 
all  its  affairs,  are  under  no  other  direction  than  that  of 

*  Proverbs  iv.   16. 


SERMON  XIX.  245 

chance  and  fortune,  to  enjoy  any  true  and  permanent 
tranquillity  of  mind.  There  is  such  a  variety  of  mi- 
series to  which  human  nature  is  continually  exposed, 
and  which  no  human  prudence  can  cither  foresee  or 
avert,  that,  \\illiout  a  firm  confidence  in  some  power- 
ful superintendent,  who  is  both  able  and  willing  to  pro- 
tect us,  we  must  live  under  perpetual  apprehensions 
for  ourselves  and  those  who  are  most  dear  to  us.  From 
tliis  most  painful  solicitude  (which  was  in  fact,  a  source 
of  endless  uneasiness  to  the  Pagan  world)  the  Gospel 
eficctually  relieves  us.  It  informs  us,  that  "we  are  un- 
der the  constant  guardianship  of  an  Almighty  Friend 
and  Protector,  who  sees  the  very  minutest  events,  and 
governs  the  most  casual  ;  who,  in  the  immense  range 
of  creation,  does  not  overlook  the  least  or  meanest  of 
his  creatures  ;  who  commands  us,  "  to  take  no  thought 
"  for  the  morrow,"  but  to  cast  all  our  care  upon  him, 
for  this  most  substantial  and  satisfactory  reason,  "  be- 
"  cause  he  careth  for  us;"  \; ho  has  declared,  that, 
"  if  we  seek  first  his  kingdom  and  his  righteousness, 
"  all  those  things  (that  are  really  necessary)  shidl  be 
"  added  to  us  ;"  and  that,  in  the  great  variety  and 
seemingly  discordant  mixture  of  human  events,  "  he 
*'  v.ill  make  every  thing  work  togedier  (ultimately) 
"  for  good  to  them  that  love  him*."  Here,  now, 
is  a  firm  and  adequate  foundation  for  enjoyment  of 
the  present  moment,  and  indifference  about  the  next. 
Under  the  persuasion  that  no  disaster  can  reach  us 
without  his  permission,  who  watches  over  us  with  an 
eye  that  never  slumbers,  and  a  tenderness  which  no- 
thing but  guilt  can  wididraw  from  us,  we  can  face 
those  unknown  terrors  from  w  hich  Pagan  Philosophy 
turned  away  dismayed  ;  can  look  forward,  unmoved, 
into  futurity,  and  contemplate  all  the  possible  contin- 
gencies that  may  beful  us,  with  intrepidity  and  uncon- 
cern ;  with  the  cheerfulness  of  a  mind  at  perfect  ease, 
reposing  itself  in  full  confidence  and  security  on  the 
great  Disposer  of  all  human  events. 

•  Mat'.h,  vi.  35.     1  Pet.  v.  7.    Rom.  viii.  28. 


246  SERMON  XIX. 

IV.  That  future  state  of  existence,  of  which  Chris- 
tianity first  gave  us  a  clear  and  distinct  view,  affords  a 
prospect  to  us  that  cannot  well  fail  to  cheer  and  enliven 
our  hearts,  and  even  bear  us  up  under  the  heaviest 
pressures  of  affliction.  Without  this  support,  there 
are,  it  must  be  owned,  calamities  sufficient  to  break  the 
highest  spirits,  and  to  subdue  the  firmest  minds. — 
When  the  good  and  virtuous  man  is  unjustly  accused 
and  inhumanly  traduced  ;  when  enemies  oppress  and 
friends  desert  him  ;  when  poverty  and  distress  come 
upon  him  like  an  armed  man  ;  vihen  his  favorite  child, 
or  his  beloved  companion,  is  snatched  from  him  by 
death ;  when  he  is  racked  with  incessant  pain,  or 
pining  away  widi  incurable  disease  ;  when  lie  knows, 
moreover,  that  he  can  have  no  rest  but  in  the  grave, 
and  supposes  that  this  rest  is  the  absolute  extinction  of 
his  being  ;  no  wonder  that  he  sinks  into  melancholy 
and  despair.  But  let  the  divine  light  of  immortality 
break  in  upon  him,  and  the  gloom  that  surrounds  him 
clears  up.  Let  this  day-star  arise  before  him,  and  it 
will  shed  a  brightness  over  the  whole  scene  of  his  ex- 
istence, which  will  make  every  thing  look  gay  and 
cheerful  around  him.  He  is  no  longer  the  same  being 
he  was  before.  A  new  set  of  ideas  and  sentiments,  of 
hopes  and  expectations,  spring  up  in  his  mind,  and  re- 
present every  thing  in  a  point  of  view  totally  different 
from  that  in  which  they  before  appeared  to  liim.  What 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  consider  as  insupportable 
misfortunes,  he  now  sees  to  be  most  salutary  clias. 
tisements.  This  world  is  no  longer  his  home.  It  is 
a  scene  of  discipli-ie,  a  school  of  virtue,  a  place  of 
education,  intended  to  fit  him  for  appearing  well  in  a 
far  more  illustrious  station.  Under  this  conviction  he 
goes  on  with  alacrity  and  steadiness  in  the  patlis  of  duty, 
neither  discouraged  by  difficulties,  nor  depressed  by 
misfortunes.  He  is  a  citizen  of  a  heavenly  countrj', 
towards  which  he  is  travelling  :  his  accommodations 
on  the  road  are  sometimes,  it  must  be  owned,  wretch- 
ed enough  ;  but  they  are  only  temporary  inconvenicn- 
cies  ;  they  are  trivial  disquietudes,  which  are  below 


SERMON  XIX.  247 

his  notice  ;  for  at  home  he  knows  every  thing  ^^ill  be 
to  his  mind.  The  blessings  which  there  await  him, 
and  on  which  his  heart  is  fixed,  inspire  him  with  an 
ardor  and  alacrity  that  carry  him  tinough  every  obsta- 
cle. Even  under  the  most  calamitous  circumstances, 
he  supports  himself  with  this  reflection,  more  pregnant 
V  ith  good  sense  and  solid  comfort,  than  all  the  vast 
volumes  of  ancient  Philosophy  or  modern  Infidelity, 
that  "  these  light  afflictions,  w  hich  are  but  for  a  mo- 
*'  ment,  shall  work  for  him  (if  he  bears  them  with 
*'  Christian  patience)  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
*'  weight  of  glory-." 

V.  There  remains  still  another  ground  of  joy  pe- 
culiar to  the  Gospel  ;  and  that  is,  the  consolation  and 
assistance  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  is  a  circumstance  of 
wonderful  beauty  and  utility  in  the  Christian  dispensa- 
tion, that  one  of  those  three  divine  persons,  who  each 
bore  their  share  in  the  great  work  of  our  redemption, 
condescends  to  contribute  also  to  our  present  tran- 
quillity  :  to  abide  with  us  here  constantly  upon  earth  ; 
to  assume  the  endearing  name,  and  perform  the  truly 
benevolent  office,  of  a  Co.mporter.  Under  this 
character  and  title,  the  Holy  Spirit  was  promised  to  tlic 
apostles  by  our  Savour,  in  his  last  affecting  address  to 
them,  in  order  to  alleviate  their  grief  foi' his  approach- 
ing departure.  This  promise  was  most  punctually  arid 
amply  fulfilled  on  the  day  of  Pentecost ;  and  from  that 
time  \\e  see  the  influence  of  this  heavenly  Paraclete 
most  eminently  displayed  in  that  astonishing  and  al- 
most instantaneous  turn  which  it  gave  to  the  sentiments, 
the  language,  and  the  conduct  of  the  apostles.  From 
being  timorous,  dejected,  and  perplexed,  shocked 
at  the  ignominious  end  of  their  Lord,  afraid  to  appear 
in  public,  dubious,  hesitating,  and  indecisive  ;  on  a 
sudden  they  become  courageous,  undaunted,  cheerful. 
1'hey  openly  aA  ow,  and  boldly  preach,  that  once  oflfen- 
sive  doctrine  of  a  crucified  Saviour.  They  profess 
themselves  his  disciples  :  they  call  upon  all  men  to  be- 
lic\  e  in  him  ;  and  set  before  them,  with  ;:!!  the  powers 

•  2  Cor.  It.  17. 


248  SERMON  XIX. 

of  the  most  masculine  eloquence,  the  evidences  and  the 
doctrines  of  the  Christian  faitli.  No  complaints 
from  that  time  ;  no  dejection  of  spirits  ;  no  discontent. 
Though  they  were  persecuted,  afflicted,  tormented,  yet 
it  was  all  joy,  and  triumph,  and  exultation  of  heart. 
*'  We  are  troubled,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  on  every  side, 
*'  yet  not  distressed  ;  W'eare  perplexed,  but  not  in  des- 
*'  pair  ;  as  dying,  and  behold  we  live  ;  as  chastened, 
*' but  not  killed  ;  as  sorrowful,  yet  alvvay  rejoicing; 
*'  as  poor,  yet  making  many  rich  ;  as  having  nothing, 
*'  and  yet  possessing  all  things  ;  and  though  our  out- 
*'  ward  man  perish,  yet  our  inward  man  is  renewed  day 
*'  by  day*."  Even  St.  Peter  himself,  he  who  had  the 
weakness  to  deny  his  blessed  Master  in  the  extremity 
of  his  distress  ;  even  he,  after  the  descent  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  was  the  very  first  to  rise  up  in  his  defence, 
and  in  a  long  and  spirited  speech  to  vindicate  his  pre- 
tensions, and  assert  the  truth  of  his  doctrines.  Tlie 
same  alacrity  and  jo}'fulness  spread  itself  to  all  the 
converts.  "  For  they  that  believed  were  together,  and 
*' had  all  things  common,  and  sold  their  possessions 
*'  and  goods,  and  parted  them  to  ail  men,  as  every  man 
*'  had  need  ;  and  continuing  daily  with  one  accord  in 
*'  the  temple,  did  eat  their  meat  with  gladness  and 
*'  singleness  of  heart,  praising  God,  and  having  favor 
"  with  all  the  peoplef-" 

Such  were  the  cheerful  scenes  which  the  first  dawn 
of  the  Gospel,  and  the  first  appearance  of  the  com- 
forter, present  to  us  :  and  although  these  were  indeed, 
preturnatural  effects,  arising  from  such  extraordinary 
eifusions  of  the  Spirit,  as  were  peculiar  to  those  times, 
and  not  to  be  expected  in  our  own  ;  yet  in  some  de- 
gree,  his  sacred  influence  will  still  remain  ;  and  to 
every  one  that  is  worthy  of  his  consolations,  we  will 
still  be  a  comforter.  We  are  assured  by  the  best  au- 
thority, "  that  he  will  abide  with  us  for  ever  ;  that  he 
*'  will  dwell  with  us  ;  that  he  will  be  with  us  ahvays  to 
"  the  end  of  the  \vorld  ;  that  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is 
**  love,  joy,  peace ;  that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  right- 

•  2  Cor.  iy.  IS.  '  f  Acts  W.  46,  47. 


SERMON  XIX.  249 

"  eolisncss,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost*.'*  If, 
therefore,  we  constantly  and  devoutly  pray  for  his  di- 
vine assistance  ;  if  we  do  not  grieve  him  by  any  sinful 
thoughts  and  actions  ;  if  we  endeavor,  by  the  most 
imblemished  purity  of  mind  and  sanctity  of  life,  to 
render  ourselves  fit  temples  for  him  to  inhabit  ;  we 
may  depend  upon  it  that  he  will  be  our  guide  and  com- 
panion, our  comfort  and  support  ;  will,  in  temptation, 
give  us  fortitude,  in  affliction  patience,  in  prosperity 
thankfulness,  in  poverty  content  ;  will,  in  every  condi- 
tion and  circumstance  of  life,  impart  to  us  that  peace 
OF  God,  that  heartfelt  joy  and  satisfaction,  which  pass- 
es all  understanding  and  all  description. 

Before  I  conclude,  I  must  beg  your  attention  to  one 
short,  but,  as  I  conceive,  important  observation,  re- 
sulting from  the  foregoing  discourse. 

We  of  this  kingdom  have  been  repeatedly  stigma- 
tized by  the  other  nations  of  Europe  as  a  melancholy, 
dejected,  gloomy  people.  The  charge,  I  fear,  is  up- 
on the  whole  but  too  well  founded  ;  and  the  proofs  too 
visible,  and  sometimes  too  dreadful,  to  be  evaded  or 
denied.  It  behoves  us  therefore,  surely,  to  inquire  u 
little  into  the  true  causes  of  this  national  malady  ;  and 
to  consider,  whether  one  of  these  causes  may  not  be 
a  contemptuous  disregard,  or,  at  least,  a  cold  indiffer- 
ence for  that  most  pure,  and  holy,  and  enlivening  Re- 
ligion, which  contains  the  only  true  remedy  for  our 
disease.  Instead  of  this,  we  have  too  commonly  re- 
course to  a  very  different  mode  of  relief,  to  those  per- 
nicious cordials  of  unbounded  pleasure  and  endless 
dissipation,  which  though  like  other  cordials,  they  may 
raise  our  spirits  for  the  moment,  yet  afterwards  sink 
and  depress  them  beyond  recovery,  and  leave  the  un- 
happy patient  infinitely  more  in  distress  and  danger 
than  they  found  him.  If  this  be  the  case  we  know 
what  we  have  to  do.  We  must  fly  to  a  totally  oppo- 
site regimen  ;  to  that  purity  of  mind,  that  sanctity  of  . 
manners,  that  self-government,  that  moral  discipline, 
that  modesty  of  desire,  that  discreet  and  temperate  en- 

*  John  xiv.  16  ;  Rom.  viiJ.  9  ;  Matth.  xxviii.  20  ;  Gal.  Y.  22  ;  Rom.  xiv.  17. 

H  h 


^SO  SERMON  XIX. 

joyment  of  the  world,  that  exaUed  piety,  that  active 
benevolence,  that  trust  in  Providence,  that  cxhilirating 
hope  of  immortality,  that  reliance  on  the  merits  of 
our  Redeemer,  which  the  doctrines  and  the  precepts 
of  the  Gospel  so  powerfully  impress  upon  our  souls, 
and  which,  as  we  have  seen,  are  the  best  and  most  ef- 
fectual preservatives  against  all  depression  of  spirits. 
It  is  here,  in  short,  if  any  where,  true  cheerfulness  is 
to  be  found.  To  those,  indeed,  who  have  been  long 
dissolved  in  luxury  and  gaiety,  that  moderation  in  all 
things  which  Christianity  prescribes,  may,  at  first,  ap- 
pear a  harsh  and  painful  restraint ;  but  a  little  time,  and 
a  little  perseverance,  will  render  it  as  delightful  as  it  is 
confessedly  salutary.  Be  prevailed  on  then,  for  once, 
to  give  it  a  fair  trial  ;  and  accept,  w^ith  all  thankfulness, 
that  most  gracious  invitation  of  our  blessed  Redeemer, 
*'  Come  unto  m.e  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  la- 
"  den,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon 
*'  you,  and  learn  of  me,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  untoyouF 
"  souls.  For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burthen  is 
*'  light*." 

*  Matth.  xi,  28—30. 


SERMON  XX. 


1  Cor.  i.  20. 

JtTierc  is  the  ivise  ?  vjhere  is  the  scribe  ?  where  is  the  dis/mter  of 
t/ds  world  ?  Hath  7iot  God  made  foolish  the  ivisdom  of  this 
nvorld  ? 

THE  subject  on  which  St.  Paul  is  speaking  in  this 
chapter,  and  which  drew  from  him  the  exclama- 
tion in  the  text,  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Cross  :  that  is, 
the  atonement  made  for  the  sins  of  mankind  by  the 
crucifixion  of  our  blessed  Lord.  This  is  a  topic  on 
which  he  always  speaks  with  an  air  of  peculiar  triumph 
and  exultation  :  and  in  this  chapter  more  especially,  he 
enlarges  upon  it  with  unusual  strength  of  argument 
and  eloquence.  He  was  not  ignorant  that  this  doc- 
trine ga\'e  the  utmost  offence  both  to  the  Jew  and  to 
the  Greek  :  but  notwithstanding  this,  he  asserts,  "  that 
"  it  was  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation'*."  He  was 
no  stranger  to  the  numberless  objections  made  to  it  by 
the  profound  reasoners  and  the  fashionable  philoso- 
phers of  the  age,  who  are  here  distinguished  by  the 
appellation  of  the  inise,  the  scribe^  the  disputer  of  this 
ivorld ;  but  their  wisdom,  their  learning,  their  skill  in 
disputation,  had  no  weight  with  him.  He  considered 
their  idle  cavils  and  subtilties  as  utterly  unworthy  of 
his  notice.  He  affirmed,  that  their  boasted  science  and 
erudition  never  had  been,  never  could  be,  of  the  least 
use  to  mankind,  in  leading  them  to  the  knowledge  and 
practice  of  true  Religion ;  "  and  that  the  world  by 

*  Romans  i.  16. 


252  SERMON  XX. 

*'  wisdom,"  fhy  such  wisdom  as  they  possessed) 
*'  knew  not  God  :"  whereas,  what  they  called  the  fool- 
ishness of  preaching*  ;"  the  foolishness  of  preaching 
the  great  doctrine  of  Redemption,  had  already  enligh- 
tened the  mkids,  and  reformed  the  hearts  of  a  prodi- 
gious number  of  people,  and  thus  made  "  foolish  the 
*'  wisdom  of  this  world  ;"  had  shewn  the  weakness 
and  impotence  of  worldly  wisdom,  when  compared 
with  the  rapid  and  astonishing  effects  produced  by  the 
so  much  derided  doctrine  of  Redemption.  Trans- 
ported with  these  ideas,  the  apostle  breaks  out  into  the 
sublime  apostrophe  of  the  text  :  *'  Where  is  the 
*•'•  scribe  ?  where  is  the  wise  ?  where  is  the  disputer 
*'  of  this  world  ?  Hath  not  God  made  foolish  the  wis- 
*'  dom  of  this  world  ?" 

Since  the  time  of  this  great  apostle,  his  argument, 
drawn  from  the  inefficacy  of  Rabinical  learning  and 
Gentile  philosophy,  compared  with  the  consequences  of 
the  Christian  revelation,  has  acquired  additional  force 
by  the  propagation  of  the  latter,  and  the  reformation 
wrought  by  it  through  a  large  part  of  the  world,  and 
the  light  diffused  by  it  into  almost  every  other  part ; 
whilst  the  wise  and  the  disputers  of  this  world  have 
never  been  able  to  work  any  considerable  change  in  the 
dispositions  and  manners  of  a  single  cit}^,  or  even  a 
single  village,  throughout  tlie  earth.  Yet,  notwith- 
standing this  apparent  superiority,  there  are  not  want- 
ing persons  who  are  full  of  objections  to  the  Gospel  of 
Christ ;  and  especially  to  that  capital  and  fundamental 
article  of  it  of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  the  doc- 
tr'me  of  atonement  by  the  death  of  Christ. 

If  (say  these  disputers)  it  was  God's  purpose  to  res- 
cue mankind  from  the  dominion  and  the  punishment 
of  sin,  what  need  was  there  of  so  many  strange  expedi- 
ents, and  such  a  long  course  of  laborious  and  uncouth 
arrangements,  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  design  ? 
What  necessity  was  there,  that  no  less  a  person  than  the 
Son  of  God  himself  should  be  sent  from  heaven  to  this 
lower  world  to  take  upon  him  our  flesh  ;  that  his  very 

•  1  Cor.   i.    [21. 


SERMON  XX.  253 

birth  should  be  a  contradiction  to  the  common  course 
of  nature  ;  that  he  should  be  allied  to  mean  and  indi- 
gent parents,  live  for  many  years  an  obscure  life,  then 
go  about  preaching  a  new  Religion,  full  indeed  of  ex- 
cellent precepts,  but  abounding  also  with  mysterious, 
and  unintelligible,  and  seemingly  useless  doctrines  ; 
that  he  should  go  through  a  long  series  of  indignities 
and  sufferings,  which  he  might  easily  have  avoided  ; 
should  at  length  submit  to  a  most  painful  and  igno- 
minious death  ;  should  afterwards  rise  from  the  grave, 
ascend  into  heaven,  there  sit  down  at  the  right  hand  of 
God,  and  then  send  another  divine  person,  called  the 
Holy  Ghost,  to  finish  what  he  had  left  undone  ? 

What  necessity,  it  is  asked,  could  there  possibly  be 
for  such  a  complicated  piece  of  mechanism  as  this  ; 
for  such  a  multiplicity  of  instruments,  and  such  a  va- 
riety of  contrivances,  as  are  here  set  in  motion,  to  effect 
one  single,  and,  to  all  appearance,  very  easy  purpose, 
the  pardon  of  a  few  wretched  criminals  ?  Why  could 
not  God  have  done  this  at  once,  by  one  decisive  and 
gracious  exertion  of  mercy  and  of  power ;  by  pub- 
lishing, for  instance,  an  act  of  general  indemnity  and 
oblivion  for  past  offences,  on  condition  of  sincere  re- 
pentance and  amendment  of  life  ?  Is  not  this  a  plain, 
simple,  and  natural  manner  of  proceeding,  and  far  more 
worthy  of  the  wisdom  and  the  majesty  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  than  that  intricate,  operose,  and  circuitous  kind 
of  process  in  the  work  of  our  Redemption,  which 
the  Gospel  ascribes  to  him  ? 

In  answer  to  all  these  specious  cavils,  it  might  be 
sufficient  to  say,  "  Who  art  thou,  O  man,  that  re- 
*'  pliest  against  God  ?"  Shall  the  sinner  that  is  saved, 
Bay  to  him  that  redeemed  him.  Why  hast  thou  re- 
deemed me  thus  ?  "  As  well  might  the  thing  formed, 
*'  say  to  him  that  formed  it,  W  hy  hast  thou  made  me 
"  thus*  ?"  Objections  of  such  a  nature,  and  from 
such  a  quarter,  prove  nothing  more,  than  that  man  is 
as  presumptuous  as  he  is  ignorant  and  weak. 

That  the  method  which  God  made  use  of  to  redeem 
man  by  the  death  of  Christ,  is  very  different  from  that 

•  Rom.  xix.  20. 


254  SERMON  XX. 

which  a  modern  Philosopher  would  have  made  use  of, 
may  be  very  safely  admitted,  without  in  the  least  im- 
peachint^  either  the  propriety  or  the  wisdom  of  that 
method.  That  God's  proceedings  are  always  infinite- 
ly wise,  is  most  ceartain ;  but  he  does  not  conduct 
himself  on  the  principles  of  mere  human  wisdom. 
*'  His  ways  are  not  as  our  ways,  nor  his  thoughts  as 
*'  our  thoughts."  It  is  not  always  in  man  to  perceive 
the  fitness  of  those  means  which  God  makes  use  of  to 
obtain  his  ends ;  though  there  can  be  no  doubt  but 
they  are  the  fittest  that  could  have  been  imagined. 
Who  could  have  supposed,  that  the  way  to  exalt  Jo- 
seph to  the  highest  pinnacle  of  worldly  grandeur  and 
prosperity,  was  to  sell  him  as  a  slave  to  a  company  of 
travelling  Ishmaelites*  ?  What  apparent  probability 
was  there,  that  Goliah,  the  great  champion  of  the 
Philistines,  should  fall  by  the  hand  of  a  stripling,  un- 
used to  arms,  and  furnished  only  with  a  stone  and  a 
sling  ?  How  indignant  v/as  the  mighty  Syrian,  Naa- 
man,  when  he  was  told  that,  in  order  to  be  cured  of 
his  leprosy,  he  must  wash  himself  seven  times  in 
Jordan  ?  He  expected  something  very  different  from 
this.  "  Behold,  1  thought,"  says  he,  "  that  the 
*'  Man  of  God  will  surely  come  out  to  me,  and  stand 
*'  and  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord  his  God,  and 
*'  strike  his  hand  over  the  place,  and  recover  the  leper. 
"  Are  not  Abana  and  Pharphar,  rivers  of  Damascus, 
*'  better  than  all  the  waters  of  Israel  ?  May  I  not  wash 
"'^  in  them,  and  be  cleanf?"  So  reasoned  this  wise 
man  ;  and  so  would  any  other  wise  man  of  modern 
times  have  reasoned  on  this  occasion.  But  it  proved 
in  this,  as  it  will  in  every  other  instance,  "  thefoolish- 
'*  ness  of  God  was  wiser  than  men ;  and  the  weakness 
""  of  God  was  stronger  than  men  J."  He  washed  in  Jor- 
dan, and  was  clean. 


*  In  this,  and  perhaps  one  or  tv/o  other  places,  a  few  remarks  from  other 
authors  liave,  I  believe,  (in  tlie  course  of  my  reading  many  years  ago)  in- 
sensibly mingled  themselves  with  my  own.  But  who  those  authors  were  I 
cannot  at  tliis  distance  of  time  distinctly  recollect. 

t  2  Kings  V.  11.  t  1  Cor.  i.  25. 


SERMON   XX.  253 

Nay,  even  in  the  ordinary  course  of  God's  provi- 
dence, what  a  number  of  things  do  wc  see  conducted 
in  a  manner  totally  different  from  what  one  should  nat- 
urally expect  r  To  instance  only  in  that  daily  bread, 
which  is  the  chief  support  of  life.  How  comes  it  to 
pass,  may  the  disputers  of  this  world  say,  that  so 
much  trouble  and  pains  are  requisite  to  produce  so  es- 
sential an  article  for  our  sustenance  as  this  ?  What  oc- 
casion can  there  be,  that  it  should  go  through  so  te- 
dious a  process,  such  a  long  train  of  pre])aratory  ope- 
rations, before  it  becomes  fit  for  use  ?  How  strange 
does  it  seem,  that  the  grain,  which  is  to  be  our  food, 
should  first  of  all  be  buried  in  the  ground ;  there  re- 
main for  some  time  invisible  and  useless,  and  apparent- 
ly dead* ;  then  spring  forth  with  fresh  life,  and  in  a 
new  form ;  arrive  by  slow  degrees,  to  a  state  of  ma- 
turity, and  afterwards  employ  a  prodigious  number  of 
hands  ;  undergo  a  great  variety  of  changes,  and  assume 
many  different  appearances,  before  it  can  be  manufac- 
tured into  that  solid  substance,  which  affords  so  much 
strength  and  nourishment  to  man  ?  Might  not  Provi- 
dence have  obtained  the  same  end  by  much  more  ob- 
Tious  and  expeditious  means  ?  Might  not  our  daily 
bread  be  rained  down  upon  us  at  once  from  heaven, 
like  the  manna  of  the  Israelites  ;  or  be  made  to  vegetate 
on  trees,  as  is  the  case  in  some  parts  of  the  southern 
hemisphere,  where  nature  has  left  no  other  trouble  to 
man  but  to  gather  his  bread  and  eat  it,  whilst  we  are 
forced  to  labor  after  it  through  innumerable  difficulties 
and  delays  ?  These  questions  are  just  as  modest  and  as 
proper  as  those  w^e  are  apt  to  ask  concerning  the  mode  of 
our  Redemption.    And  as  we  find  that  Providence  has 

•  Apparently  dead.  The  sacred  writers  say,  that  the  grain  actually  dies+  : 
and  Voltaire,  in  his  ^hiestiom-  snr  /'  EncyclopedJe\  triumphs  not  a  little  in  this 
supposed  error.  But  a  much  better  physiologist  than  Mr.  Voltaire  (  I  mean 
Mr.  Bonet,  of  Geneva)  affirms,  that  the  position  may  be  justified  as  philo- 
sophically true.  The  exterior  integument  of  the  grain  docs  most  certainly 
coiTupt  and  die.  It  is  the  germ  only,  or  principle  of  vegetation,  -which  re- 
mains and  lives.  "  L'Envcloppe  du  grain  perit,  &  de  sou  "  interiuer  sort 
une  plante  bien  differente  de  cettc  enveloppe." 

Essin  Analytique,  &c.  par  Mr.  Bonet,  &,  Bibliotbeque  des  Sciences,  im. 
Prem.  part.  p.  145. 

t  X  Cor.  XV-  36.  +  Article  Agriculture. 


256  SERMON  XX. 

not  thought  fit  to  humor  our  prejudices,  and  conforni  to 
our  ideas,  in  the  one  case,  why  should  we  expect  it  in 
the  other  ?  We  may,  in  both  cases,  with  equal  truth 
and  justice,  say,  "  Where  is  the  wise  ?  where  is  the 
*'  scribe  ?  where  is  the  disputer  of  this  world  ?  Hath 
"  not  God  made  foolish  the  wisdom  of  this  world*  :'* 
But  let  us  descend  a  little  more  to  particulars. 

We  are  told,  that  to  save  mankind  from  the  punish- 
ment due  to  their  sinSj  the  promulgation  of  a  free  par- 
don, on  the  part  of  God,  would  have  been  fully  suf- 
ficient. 

Let  us  suppose  then  for  a  moment,  that  this  had  ac- 
tually been  the  case.  Let  us  suppose,  that  the  Son  of 
God,  or  some  other  divine  messenger,  had  been  sent 
on  earth  merely  to  tell  mankind,  that  they  need  be  un- 
der no  apprehensions  about  the  consequences  of  their 
sins,  for  that  they  would  all  be  freely  forgiven :  and 
that,  provided  they  behaved  better  for  the  future, 
they  would  be  received  into  the  favor  of  God,  and  re- 
warded with  everlasting  life.  What  do  you  think 
must  have  been  the  consequence  of  such  a  general  un- 
qualified act  of  grace  and  indemnity  as  this  ?  Would 
it  not  have  given  the  world  reason  to  imagine,  that  God 
was  regardless  of  the  conduct  of  his  creatures,  and  that 
there  was  little  or  no  danger  in  transgressing  his  laws  ? 
Would  not  this  easiness  of  disposition,  this  facility  in 
pardoning,  have  given  men  encouragement  to  continue 
in  their  sins  ;  or,  at  least,  to  have  returned  in  a  short 
time  to  their  favorite  and  long-indulged  habits,  in  a 
certain  expectation  of  meeting  with  the  same  gentle 
treatment  which  they  had  already  experienced  ?  And 
does  not  every  one  see,  that  this  would  have  quickly 
extinguished  all  the  little  remains  of  virtue  that  were 
left  in  the  world  ?  There  was,  indeed,  I  allow,  some 
ground  to  hope,  that  a  God  of  infinite  mercy  and 
goodness  would  find  out  sofnc  means  of  saving  a  guilty 
world  from  destruction.  But  no  man  of  common  sense 
could  imagine,  that  he  would  do  this  in  such  a  manner 
as  should  be   inconsistent  with  his  other   attributes ; 

*  1  Coi-inth.  i.  20. 


SERMON  XX.  257 

those  attributes,  which  are  as  essential  to  his  nature  as 
his  goodness  and  his  mercy  ;  1  mean,  his  justice,  his 
wisdom,  his  authority,  as  the  moral  governor  of  the 
universe.  All  these  must  have  been  sh«ken  to  their 
very  foundation,  had  he  pardoned  mankind  M'ithout 
some  satisfaction  made  to  him  for  their  disobedience  ; 
without  some  mark  of  his  abhorrence  stampt  upon 
guilt  ;  without  some  public  exercise  of  his  coercive 
power,  which  might  prevent  the  sinner  from  flattering 
himself,  that  he  might  go  on  transo;ressing  with  im- 
punity, and  might  safely  presume  on  the  mercy  of  Godj 
even  in  prejudice  to  the  great  ends  of  his  moral  go- 
vernment. 

But  repentance,  you  say,  would  of  itself  have  answer- 
ed all  diese  purposes  ;  would  have  been  a  sufiicient 
atonement  for  past  offences,  a  sufiicient  satisfaction  to 
God's  justice,  and  a  sufficient  security  to  the  sinner 
against  the  future  effects  of  God's  displeasure. 

Admitting  all  this  for  a  moment  to  be  true,  there  is 
still  another  question  of  some  importance  to  be  asked 
and  answered,  and  which  yet  is  commonly  quite  left 
out  of  the  account.  What  reason  have  you  to  think, 
that  had  Christ  done  nothing  more  than  offered  to  the 
Heathen  world  a  free  pardon  of  their  sins,  on  condi- 
tion of  repentance,  they  would  have  accepted  and  per- 
formed that  condition  ;  in  other  words,  that,  without 
some  signal  indication  of  God's  abhorrence  of  sin,  to 
strike  their  imagination,  to  affect  their  hearts,  and 
rouse  their  consciences  to  a  just  sense  of  their  guilt, 
they  would  ever  have  repented  at  all  ? 

Consider  only  for  a  moment  what  the  condition  of 
mankind  was,  when  our  Lord  made  his  appearance  on 
earth.  Their  corruption  and  profligacy  had  grown  to  so 
enormous  an  height,  and  ran  out  into  such  a  variety  of 
horrible  vices,  as  even  in  these  degenerate  days  would 
appear  shocking  and  portentous.  They  were,  as  St. 
Paul  assures  us  in  a  letter  addressed  to  those  very 
Romans  of  whom  he  is  speaking,  "  they  Avere  filled 
"  with  all  unrighteousness,  fornication,  wickedness, 
*'  covetousness,  maliciousness  :  full  of  envy,  murder, 

li 


258  SERMON  XX. 

"  debate,  deceit,  malignity  ;  whisperers,  backbiters, 
*'  haters  of  God,  despiteful,  proud,  boasters,  inventors 
*'  of  evil  things,  disobedient  to  parents,  without  un- 
*'  derstanding,  covenant  breakers,  without  natural  af- 
*'  fection,  implacable,  unmerciful*." 

What  now  do  you  think  of  such  a  race  of  monsters 
as  these  ?  Do  you  think  it  possible,  that  mere  exhort- 
ation alone,  or  even  the  most  awful  denunciations  of 
punishment,  would  ever  have  brought  such  miscreants 
as  these  to  real  repentance  and  vital  reformation  ? 
Wiiat  little  probability  there  was  of  this,  you  will  judge 
from  what  St.  Paul  further  tells  you  in  the  same  epistle 
that  they  not  only  did  these  things  themselves,  but 
took  "  pleasure  in  those  that  did  themf."  Iliey  were 
delighted  to  see  their  friends,  their  neighbors,  and  even 
their  own  children,  grow  every  day  more  profligate 
around  them.  "  They  became  vain  in  their  imagina- 
*'  lions,  and  their  foolish  heart  was  darkenedj." 
"  They  were  alienated  from  the  life  of  God,  through 
*'  the  ignorance  that  was  in  them,  because  of  the  blind- 
"  ness  of  their  heart ;  they  were  past  feelings  and 
"[rave  themselves  over  unto  lasciviousness,  to  work 
"  all  uncleanness  with  greedinessll."  This  shows, 
that  the  num!:)er  and  the  grossness  of  their  crimes  had 
effaced  all  their  ideas  of  guilt,  and  "  had  seared  their 
*'  consciences  with  a  hot  iron§."  Add  to  this,  that 
their  philosophers  and  their  priests,  who  ought  to  have 
restrained  their  vices,  did  themselves,  by  their  own 
example,  encourage  them  in  some  of  their  worst. 
Many  parts  even  of  their  religious  worship,  instead  of 
purifying  and  reforming,  tended  to  corrupt  and  debase 
their  hearts  with  the  grossest  sensualities  ;  and  the  very 
gods  whom  they  adored  were  represented  as  guilty  of 
crimes  too  shocking  to  be  s^^cified,  but  which  all  who 
sor.ght  their  fovor  would  certainly  take  care  to  imitate.^ 
You  see  then  what  little  prospect  there  was,  that  men 
under  such  circumstances  should  ever  be  prevailed  on, 

•  Rom.  i.  29,  30,  31.  +  Rom.  i.  32.  |  Rom.  i.  21. 

II  Ei)h.  iv.  18,  19.  §  1  Tim.  iv.  2. 

\  Ego  homuncio  liCC  non  facerem  ?    See   the  whole  passage.    Terent. 
Eiiu.  iii.  V.  43. 


SERMON  XX.  259 

by  a  mere  preacher  of  righteousness  (even  thou^^h 
sent  from  the  rcahris,  and  cnrlued  with  the  eloquence, 
of  heaven)  to  repent  and  reform.  Before  they  could 
do  either,  they  must  be  sensible  that  they  were  acting 
wrong.  But  they,  on  the  contrary,  thought  themselves 
right.  They  not  only  acted  wickedh',  but  acted  so  on 
]:)rinciple.  Their  moral  sense  was  inverted,  "  The 
*'  light  that  was  in  them  was  become  darkness."  They 
had  no  check  within  to  stop  their  mad  career  of  ^\  ick- 
cdness  ;  and  every  thing  without,  every  thing  that 
ought  to  have  taught  them  a  better  lesson,  their  phi- 
losophers, their  priests,  their  religion,  their  v.  orship, 
their  gods  themselves,  all  contributed  to  confirm  and 
strengthen  them  in  their  corrupt  practices,  and  to  bar 
up  every  avenue  to  reformation. 

It  is  therefore  evident,  that,  without  some  awake- 
ning call,  some  striking  and  astonishing,  and  extraor- 
dinary event,  (like  that  of  the  crucifixion  of  Christ) 
to  affect  the  hearts  and  alarm  the  fears  of  the  ancient 
Pagans,  and  to  impress  them  with  a  strong  sense  of 
God's  extreme  indignation  against  sin,  it  was  morally 
impossible  they  could  ever  have  been  brought  to  a  se- 
rious, effectual,  and  permanent  amendment  of  heart 
and  life*". 

It  is  in  vain,  then,  to  talk  of  the  great  efScacv  of 
repentance  in  averting  the  anger  of  the  Almight}',  and 
atoning  for  past  offences.  You  ought  first  to  settle 
the  previous  question,  whether,  if  this  had  been  all  the 
expiation  required,  there  would  have  been  any  repent- 
ing sinners  in  the  world  to  have  tried  the  experi- 
ment ? 

But  to  grant  all  this  power  of  expi.uion  to  repent- 
ance, is  grimting  a  great  deal  more  than  truth  will  war- 
rant. 

*  I:  is  a  singular  circumstance,  which  I  have  from  unquestionable  author, 
ity,  and  which  tends  very  iiuicli  to  show  tl'.e  powerful  influence  of  a  cruci- 
fied Redeemer,  that  in  almost  every  ])art  of  the  world,  from  Greenland  to 
the  West  India  islands,  those  Ileatliens,  that  have  been  proselyted  to  Chris- 
tianity, were  principally  and  most  elfectually  wrou;^ht  upon  by  the  history  of 
our  Saviour's  sullerings,  as  recorded  in  the  Gospel.  VVhen  these  were  for- 
cibly staged,  and  repeatedly  impressed  on  their  minds,  they  scarce  ever  failcJ 
to  produce  in  them  both  a  lively  faith  and  a  virtuous  life.  " 


,jg60  SERMON  XX. 

For  from  whence  do  you  learn,  that  repentance  alone 
will  obliterate  the  stains  of  past  guilt  ;  will  undo  every- 
thing you  have  done  amiss  ;  will  reinstate  you  in  the 
favor  of  God  ;  will  make  ample  satisfaction  to  his  in- 
sulted justice  ;  and  secure  respect  and  obedience  to  his 
authority,  as  the  moral  governor  of  the  world  ? 

Do  the  Scriptures  teach  you  this  ?  No.  They  plain- 
ly tell  you,  that  "  without  the  shedding  of  blood,  there 
*'  is  no  remission  of  sins*."  But,  perhaps,  you  col- 
lect it  from  the  very  nature  of  the  thing  itself.  Con- 
sider then  W'hat  repentance  is.  It  is  nothing  more  than 
sorrow  for  what  we  have  done  amiss,  and  a  resolution 
not  to  do  it  again. 

But  can  this  annihilate  what  is  past  ?  Most  assu- 
redly it  has  no  such  power.  Our  former  transgressions 
still  remain  uncancelled.  They  are  recorded  in  the 
books  of  heaven  ;  and  it  is  not  our  future  good  deeds 
alone  that  can  wipe  them  out.  They  can  only  an- 
swer for  themselves  (if  they  can  do  that)  :  they  have 
no  superabundant  or  retrospective  merit  to  spare,  as  a 
cover  to  past  offences.  We  may  as  well  affirm,  says  a 
learned  divine,  ■'  that  our  former  obedience  atones  for 
"•'  our  present  sins,  as  that  our  present  obedience  makes 
*'  amends  for  antecedent  transgressions." 

If  you  think  this  doctrine  harsh  and  unnatural,  see 
whether  your  own  daily  experience,  whether  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  human  affairs,  w'ill  teach  you  a  different 
lesson. 

Look  around  you,  and  observe  what  is  passing  eve- 
ry moment  before  your  eyes.  You  see  men  frequently 
destroying  by  sensuality,  by  intemperance,  by  every 
act  of  profligacy,  their  health,  their  fortune,  their  cha- 
racter, their  happiness  here  and  hereafter.  You  see 
them,  perhaps,  afterwards  most  heartily  sorry  for  what 
they  have  done  ;  sincerely  repenting  of  their  wicked- 
ness ;  resolving  for  the  fiUure  to  lead  a  virtuous  and 
religious  life,  and  perliaps  fulfilling  that  resolution. 
But  does  this  always  restore  them  to  their  health,  their 
fortune,  or  their  good  fame  ?  No  :  they  are  often  ^onc 

*  Kcb,  IK.  23, 


SERMON  XX.  261 

for  ever,  lost  beyond  redemption,  notwithstanding  their 
utmost  efforts  to  recover  them.  The  wretch  that  has 
committed  a  murder,  may  be  struck  with  the  deepest 
remorse  and  horror  for  his  crime,  and  may  most  seri- 
ously determine  to  make  every  amends  for  it  in  his 
power.  Bu».  does  this  save  him  from  the  hand  of  jus- 
tice, from  die  punishment  denounced  against  his  of- 
fence by  huv  ?  We  know  that  it  does  not.  Unless 
some  powerful  mediator  or  friend  interpose  to  obtain 
his  pardon,  he  will  fall  by  the  hand  of  the  executioner. 
And  in  a  multitude  of  other  instances,  nothing  but  the 
generous  kindness  of  our  friends,  and  their  readiness 
to  encounter  great  inconvenience,  expense,  trouble, 
and  misery,  for  our  sakes,  can  avert  the  fatal  conse- 
quences which  our  indiscretions,  follies,  and  vices 
would,  in  spite  of  the  sincerest  repentance  and  re- 
morse, infallibly  bring  upon  us*.  Since  then,  notwith- 
standing the  mercy  and  the  goodness  of  God,  repentance 
does  not  prevent  the  natural  penal  consequences  of  our 
crimes  in  this  world,  what  reason  is  there  to  think,  that 
it  will  avert  the  vengeance  due  to  them  in  the  next, 
which  is  under  the  government  of  the  same  Almighty 
Being  ? 

That  it  is  incapable  of  producing  this  effect,  will  ap- 
pear further  from  the  consideration,  that  the  sincerest 
repentance  and  reformation  must  necessarily  be  in  seme 
degree  imperfect,  mixed  with  failings,  and  subject  to 
occasional  relapses ;  and  therefore,  instead  of  atoning 
for  past  transgressions,  must  themselves  stand  in  need 
of  indulgence  and  forgiveness.  If  repentance  placed 
us  in  a  state  of  moral  perfection  and  unsinning  obedi- 
ence, there  might  be  some  pretence,  perhaps,  for  ascri- 

•  It  is  remarkable,  that  our  Lord  himself  ccrr,pa«es  his  interposition  to 
save  us  from  ruin  to  the  generous  interference  of  a  man  to  rescue  his  friend 
from  destruction.  "Greater  love  hath  no  man  ;  ban  this,  that  a  n'an  lay 
"  down  his  life  for  his  friends^  ;''  ulUidirig,  e\  ideifriy,  to  ihis  instance 
of  his  love  for  us.  This,  perhaps,  might  euggest  the  ide;i  of  that  ncble  prin- 
ciple of  analogy,  by  which  Bishop  Bui  ler  hr.s  so  admirably  illustraied,  and 
so  unanswerably  defended  the  great  Scripti:;^!  doctrine  cf  cnr  Rcdemptirrn, 
by  Christ  interfering  as  a  friend  in  t^iir  behalf^  and  voluniaiily  iubbtituliiij 
jiimself  for  us  on  the  cross. 

t  John  XV.  13. 


262  SERMON  XX. 

bing  to  It  a  considerable  degree  of  expiatory  virtue. 
But  let  the  truest  and  devoutest  penitent  look  impar- 
tially into  his  own  heart,  and  then  let  him  fairly  say, 
whether  this  is  actually  the  case.  Has  he  so  complete- 
ly washed  his  hands  in  innoccncy,  and  purified  his  soul 
irom  sin,  that  not  a  single  evil  propensity  remains 
within  him  ?  Has  he  entirely  subdued  every  inveterate 
habit,  every  inor-dinatc  passion,  every  sin  that  did  most 
easily  beset  him  ?  Is  it  all  calmness,  composure,  peace 
and  order  within  ?  Is  all  rancor  and  malice  laid  asleep 
in  his  breast  ?  Can  he  forgive  the  grossest  insults,  the 
crudest  calumnies,  and  the  most  unprovoked  inju- 
ries ?  Do  his  thoughts  never  \vander  beyond  the 
limits  of  his  duty,  nor  his  eye  delight  to  dwell  on 
improper  objects  ?  Are  his  affections  detached  from 
this  world,  and  fixed  entirely  on  things  above  ?  Does 
his  heart  glow  with  unbounded  love  towards  his 
neighbor,  and  is  it  touched  with  the  hallowed  flame  of 
piety  and  devotion  towards  his  Maker  ?  "When  he  can 
truly  say,  that  this  is  a  genuine  picture  of  his  soul,  he 
may  then,  if  he  thinks  fit,  reject  a  crucified  Redeemer. 
But  till  then,  he  will  do  well  not  to  lean  too  confident- 
ly on  repentance  as  his  ojily  stay. 

If,  then,  neither  Scripture  nor  experience  teach  us, 
that  repentance  alone  will  avilfor  our  pardon  Vv'ith  God, 
does  the  light  of  nature  assure  us  that  it  will  ?  To 
know  what  are  the  genuine  dictates  of  nature,  you 
must  not  look  for  them  in  a  land  enlightened  by  Rev- 
elation ;  you  must  go  back  to  those  ages  and  those 
countries,  where  nature  was.  indeed,  the  only  guide 
that  men  had  to  direct  their  ways.  And  v/hat  was  then 
their  opinion  of  the  efiicacy  of  repentance  ?  Did  the 
ancient  Pagans  entertain  such  high  notions  of  it,  as 
some  theologians,  in  the  present  times,  seem  to  have 
taken  up  ?  By  no  means  ;  we  scarce  ever  hear  tbem 
talking  of  repentance.  When  they  had  olTended  their 
gods,  they  thought  of  nothing  but  oblations,  expiations, 
lustrations,  and  animal  sacrifices.  These  were  the  ex- 
pedients to  which  they  always  had  recourse  to  regain 
the  forfeited  favor  of  their  deities.     This  universal 


SERMON  XX.  265 

practice  of  shedding  blood  to  obtain  the  pardon  of  guilt, 
most  clearly  shows  what  the  common  apprehensions 
of  mankinil  were  on  this  subject,  when  under  the  sole 
direction  of  their  own  understanding  :  it  shows,  they 
thought  that  something  else  was  necessary,  besides 
their  own  repentance  and  reformation,  to  appease  the 
anger  of  their  gods.  They  drought  that,  after  all  they 
could  do  for  thcmsebes,  something  mu5t  be  done  or 
sufllred  by  some  other  being,  before  they  could  be 
restored  to  the  condition  they  would  have  been  in  if 
they  had  never  forfeited  their  innocence.  Nay,  some 
of  the  greatest,  and  wisest,  and  best  among  them  de- 
clared, in  express  terms,  "  that  there  was  wanting 
*'  some  iinhersal  method  of  dxlfccring  men* s  seids  which 
"  no  sect  of  Philosophy  had  ever  yet  found  out"'^-." 

This  unhersal method  of  delhering  men's  sords^  (as  it 
is  here  most  properly  and  most  emphatically  called)  was 
at  length  made  known  to  mankind  by  the  Christian  Rev- 
elation which  we  have  been  here  considering.  Our  bles- 
sed Lord  was  himself  the  great,  the  all-atoning  Victim, 
oiFered  up  for  the  whole  world  upon  the  cross.  "  He 
*'  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions,  and  on  him  the 
*'  Lord  hath  laid  the  iniquity  of  us  allf."  *'  He  bore  our 
"  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree,  that  we  being  dead  to 
*'  sin  should  live  unto  righteousness^."  He  was,  in 
short,  the  very  Paschal  Lamb,  w  hich  \\'as  slain  for  us 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world.  He  was  the  great  uni- 
versal Sacrifice  to  \a  hich  all  the  prophets,  from  the  fall 
of  Adam  to  the  birth  of  Christ,  uniformly  directed 
their  viev/s  and  their  predictions  and  of  m  hich  all  the 
sacrifices  under  the  Jewish  law  were  only  types  and 
emblems.  They  w^ere  the  shadow  :  Christ  was  the 
substance.  And,  as  the  writer  to  tlie  Hebrews  justly 
observes,  *'  if  the  blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats,  and  the 
"  ashes  of  an  heifer,  sprinkling  the  unclean,  sancti- 
"  lied  to  the  purifying  of  the  flesh  ;"  (that  is,  released 
the  oftender  from  legal  uncleanness  and  temporal  pu- 
nishment) "  how  much  more  shall  the  blood  of  Christ, 

*  Porphyry,  as  quoted  l>y  Austin,  de  Chitate  Dei.  I.  10.   c.  32. 
t  Isaiah  liii.  5,  G,  \  1  Peter  ii.  24. 


264  SERMON  XX. 

*'  who,  through  the  eternal  Spirit,  offered  himself 
*'  without  spot  to  God,  purge  your  consciences  from 
*'  dead  works,  to  serve  the  living  God*  ?" 

This  is,  in  a  few  words,  the  sum  and  substance  of 
the  great  mystery  of  our  Redemption.  That  it  is  a 
mystery,  a  great  and  astonishing  mystery,  we  readily 
acknowledge.  But  this  was  naturally  to  be  expected 
in  a  work  of  such  infinite  difficulty,  as  that  of  render- 
ing the  mercy  of  God,  in  pardoning  mankind,  consist- 
ent with  the  exercise  of  his  justice,  and  the  support  of 
his  authority,  as  the  moral  Governor  of  the  world. 
Whatever  could  effect  this,  must  necessarily  be  some- 
thing far  beyond  the  comprehension  of  our  limited 
understandings  ;  that  is,  must  necessarily  be  mysteri- 
ous. And,  therefore,  this  very  circumstance,  instead 
of  shocking  our  reason  and  staggering  our  faith,  ought 
'to  satisfy  the  one,  and  confirm  the  other. 

What  remains  further  to  be  said  on  this  interesting 
and  important  subject,  I  shall  reserve  for  a  separate 
discourse. 

*  Heb.  ix.  13,14. 'The  Soc'mians  say,  that  the  expressions  in  Scripture, 

which  seem  to  prove  the  death  of  Christ  to  be  a  real  sacrifice  for  sin,  are 
nothing  more  than  figurative  allusions  to  the  animal  sacrifices  of  the  Mo- 
saical  law.  But  it  has  been  well  observed,  that  the  very  reverse  of  this  is 
the  truth  of  the  case.  For  these  Mosaical  sacrifices  were  themselves  allu- 
sions to  the  great  all-sufficient  Sacrifice,  which  was  to  be  made  by  our  Sa- 
viour on  the  cross. 


SERMON  XXI. 


1  Cor.  i.  20. 

iVIiere  is  the  Tjise  ?  ivhere  is  the  scribe  ?  lohere  is  the  disfiuter  of 
this  world  ?  Hath  not  God  made  foolish  the  wisdom  of  this 
world  ? 

FROM  the  train  of  reasoning  pursued  in  the  prece- 
ding discourse,  it  has,  I  trust,  been  made  evident, 
that  tliough  repentance  and  reformation  are  without 
doubt  indisputably  necessary  towards  procuring  the 
pardon  of  sin,  fso  necessary,  that  without  them  not 
all  the  sacrifices  on  earth,  nor  all  the  mercies  of  heaven^ 
can  avail  to  save  us)  yet  they  are  not  of  themsehes  suf- 
ficient to  wash  away  the  stains  of  past  guilt,  to  satisfy 
the  justice  of  an  offended  God,  and  restore  a  wicked 
and  rebellious  Morld  to  his  protection  and  favor. 

It  appears,  boUi  from  the  nature  of  the  things  them- 
selves, from  the  clearest  deductions  of  reason,  from 
the  ordinary  course  of  human  affairs  in  the  present 
world,  from  the  common  apprehensions,  and  the  uni- 
versal practice  of  mankind,  before  the  appearance  of 
Christ  upon  earth,  and  above  ail,  from  the  positive  de- 
clarations of  God  himself,  both  in  the  Old  and  New 
Testament,  that,  besides  the  contrition  of  the  sinner 
himself,  something  must  be  done  or  suffered  by  some 
other  being  on  his  account ;  some  sort  of  expiation 
must  be  made  for  him,  and  accepted,  before  he  can  be 
exonerated  of  guilt,  and  redeemed  from  punish- 
ment, and  stand  justified  in  the  eyes  of  his  oftcnded 
Maker. 

Kk 


266  SERMON  XXL 

This  principle  being  established  ;  (and  it  appears  to' 
me  incontrovertible)  who  shall  afterwards  presume  to 
say,  that  the  particular  kind  of  expiation,  or,  in  other 
words,  the  particular  mode  of  Redemption,  which  God 
actually  fixed  upon  for  the  preservation  of  mankind, 
was  not  the  best  and  fittest  that  could  be  devised  ?  If 
some  victim,  so?}7e  propitiatory  sacrifice,  was  plainly 
necessary  for  this  purpose ;  who  shall  undertake  to 
affirm,  that  the  very  individual  sacrifice  appointed  l^y 
God  himself,  was  not  the  properest  and  most  effectual 
to  answer  the  end  proposed  ?  If  commutative  punish- 
ment and  vicarious  suffering  appear  not  only  to  have 
prevailed  among  all  Heathen  nations  from  the  earliest 
ages,  and  to  have  been  established  among  the  Jews  by 
the  express  appointment  of  God,  but  even  at  this  hour 
to  make  a  part  of  the  ordinary  dispensations  of  God's 
providence  in  the  present  world,  (where  we  contmually 
see  men  rescued  from  ruin  by  the  interposing  kindness, 
the  generous  exertions,  and  the  voluntary  sufferings 
of  others  on  their  account)  ;  who  shall  say,  that  there 
was  either  cruelty  or  injustice,  in  appointing  Christ 
to  die,  much  less  in  his  voluntary  consent  to  die, 
*'  for  us  men  and  for  our  salvation  ?"  If,  in  fine,  the 
value  of  the  victim  oiTered  was  usually  proportioned  to 
the  magnitude  of  the  offence,  and  the  number  of  the 
offenders  ;  why  should  it  appear  in  the  least  incredible, 
that  when  the  inhabitants  of  a  whole  world,  (perhaps 
of  many  worlds  and  systems  of  worlds)  and  all  their 
generations,  from  the  very  fiill  of  our  first  parents  to 
the  end  of  time,  were  to  be  cleansed  from  guilt,  no- 
thing less  than  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God  himself, 
should  be  thought  to  possess  sufficient  purifying  pow- 
ers to  wash  away  stains  of  so  deep  a  dye,  and  so  vast 
extent  ? 

It  is  evident,  then,  that  all  the .  plausible,  objections 
of  "the  wise,  the  scribe,  the  disputer  of.  this  world,." 
against  the  Scripture  doctrine  of  Redemption,  founded 
on  the  nature  of  the  sacrifice  made  by  our  Lord,  on  the 
dignity  of  his  person,  on  the  union  of  tlie  divine  na- 
ture with  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  or  anv  other  circum- 


SERMON  XXI.  267 

stances  of  that  naturo,  are  utterly  void  of  all  founda- 
tion in  truth,  in  reason,  in  experience,  and  in  the  ac- 
tual course  of  human  aifairs  in  God's  administration  of 
the  universe.  We  may,«therefore,  safely  dismiss  them 
without  further  notice  :  and  may  assume  it  as  an  un- 
doubted truth,  that  though  we  ourselves  could  not, 
with  our  short-sighted  faculties,  discover  the  smallest 
traces  of  wisdom  or  propriety  in  the  Redemption  of 
the  world  by  the  death  of  Christ,  yet  that  it  is  in  fact 
the  \visest  that  could  be  chosen  ;  that  the  difficulties  at- 
tending it  arise  only  from  that  imj)ehetrable  darkness 
whicli  surrounds  the  throne  of  the  Almighty,  and  must 
necessarily  rest  on  many  of  his  works,  both  of  nature 
and  of  grace ;  and  that  it  is,  notwithstanding,  as  the 
Scripture  most  accurately  and  sublimely  expresses  it, 
*'  the  wisdom  of  God  in  a  mystery*."  Yet  still,  by 
contemplating  this  mystery  attentively,  we  may,  even 
with  our  limited  understandings,  discover  some  marks 
of  divine  w  isdom  ;  some  reasons,  which  might  induce 
the  Almighty  to  prefer  this  method  of  redeeming  the 
world  to  any  other ;  reasons  sufficient  at  least  to  show, 
that  when  the  veil  is  wholly  \vithdrawn,  \^ hen  v.e  no 
longer  "  see  through  a  glass  darkly,"  but  are  admit- 
ted to  contemplate  "  in  open  day"  the  whole  plan  and 
the  entire  system  of  our  redemption,  we  shall  have  as 
much  reason  to  reverence  the  depth  of  the  counsels  of 
the  Almighty,  as  we  confessedly  have,  even  at  present, 
with  all  our  ignorance,  and  all  the  natural  obscurity  of 
the  subject,  to  adore  his  goodness. 

Out  of  many  of  these  marks  of  divine  wisdom,  in 
the  mode  of  our  Redemption,  which  might  be  produ- 
ced, I  shall  select  only  a  kw  of  the  most  important. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  it  has  often  been,  and  cannot 
be  too  often,  renicu-ked,  that  the  atonement  made  on 
tlic  cross  for  the  sins  of  man,  removed  a  difficulty, 
which  "  the  wise,  the  scribe,  the  disputer  of  this 
♦'  world,"  with  all  their  wisdom,  ^vcre  ne\er  able  to 
surmount.  It  reconciled  a  contradiction,  which  to  eve- 
ry human  understanding  appeared  insuix^rable.     It  re- 

•  1  Cor.  ii.  7. 


?68  SERMON  XXI. 

conciled  the  mercy  and  the  justice  of  God  in  his  treat- 
ment of  mankind.  It  gave  salvation  to  a  guilty  world, 
without  either  inflicting  on  the  offenders  the  punish- 
ment justly  due  to  their  offences,  or  giving  counte- 
nance and  encouragement  to  sin.  By  accepting  the 
death  of  Christ  instead  of  ours,  "by  laying  on  him 
"  the  iniquity  of  us  all,"  God  certainly  gave  us  the 
most  astonishing  proof  of  his  mercy  :  and  yet,  by  ac- 
cepting no  less  a  sacrifice  than  that  of  his  own  Son,  he 
has,  by  this  most  expressive  and  tremendous  act,  sig- 
nified to  the  whole  world  such  extreme  indignation  at 
sin,  as  may  well  alarm,  even  while  he  saves  us,  and 
make  us  "  tremble  at  his  severity,  even  while  we  are 
*'  within  the  arms  of  his  mercy*." 

II.  The  appearance  of  Christ  in  the  form  of  man, 
and  the  death  he  suffered  for  our  sakes,  did  not  only 
make  our  peace  with  God,  but  it  also  enabled  him  to 
afford  us  the  strongest  possible  proof  of  that  most  com- 
fortable doctrine,  our  resurrection  from  the  dead,  by 
his  own  return  to  life  again  after  lying  three  days  in  the 
grave.  It  was,  therefore,  a  most  eminent  proof  of 
divine  wisdom,  that  the  very  same  event,  the  death  of 
Christ,  should  answer  two  such  important  purposes ; 
should  both  afford  us  the  means  of  reconciliation  with 
God,  and  at  the  same  time  give  birth  to  another  great 
event,  which  fills  us  with  the  joyful  hope  and  the  cer- 
tain expectation  of  everlasting  life.  Nay,  even  the 
public  and  ignominious  manner  in  which  our  Lord  ex- 
pired, and  which  has  sometimes  b^en  a  ground  of  ob- 
jection and  of  reproach,  was  in  reality  an  additional 
indication  of  divine  wisdom.  For  had  our  Lord's 
death  been  less  public  and  notorious,  and  had  his  per- 
son been  in  his  last  moments  less  exposed  to  the  obser- 
vation of  mankind,  the  proof  of  his  resurrection  from 
the  dead  would  have  been  considerably  weakened. 
Had  his  death  been  private  and  silent,  and  after  the  or- 
dinary manner  of  men,  the  reality  of  it  would  very 
soon  have  been  questioned  ;  and  consequently  his  re- 
surrection would  have  been  represented  as  a  gross  frau(?. 

*  Scott's  Christian  Life,  b.  3, 


SERMON  XXI.  269 

and  a  scandalous  imposition  on  the  credulity  of  man- 
kind. But  his  crucifixion  in  the  face  of  day,  and  in 
the  presence  of  an  immense  concourse  of  people,  took 
away  every  pretence  of  this  nature,  and  gave  a  strong 
and  irresistible  confirmation  to  the  truth  of  that  aston- 
ishi;!g  .niracle  which  followed  ;  which  is  the  foundation 
of  all  our  hopes,  and  the  great  corner-stone  of  our 
whole  Religion. 

III.  Before  the  appearance  of  our  Saviour  on  earth, 
there  was  a  notion  universally  prevalent  in  every  part 
almost  of  the  known  world,  that  sin  could  no  other- 
wise be  expiated  than  by  animal  sacrifices.  And  this 
at  length  was  carried  so  far,  that  in  some  extraordina- 
ry cases  it  was  thought  that  the  death  of  brute  animals 
was  not  sufficient.  Human  sacrifices  became  neces- 
sary ;  and  the  more  near  and  dear  the  person  sacrificed 
was  to  them,  the  more  valuable  Avas  the  offering 
thought ;  so  that  they  frequently  slaughtered  their  sons 
and  daughters,  more  especial I3'  their  first-born,  on 
the  altars  of  their  gods.  Now  the  death  of  Christ,  at 
the  same  time  that  it  was  a  gracious  condescension  to 
the  prevailing  opinion  of  the  necessity  of  sacrifice,  put 
an  entire  end  (through  a  great  part  of  the  world)  to  that 
sanguinary  species  of  devotion,  by  rendering  it  totally 
useless  and  inefficacious.  For  "  Christ  ^vas  offered 
"  once  for  all  ;  by  one  offering  he  perfected  for  ever 
*' them  that  are  sanctified*;"  and  obtained,  by  one 
single  act,  that  \\  hich  mankind  had,  from  the  beginning 
of  the  world,  been  endeavoring  in  vain  to  accomplish, 
by  innumerable  and  continual  sacrifices,  namely,  the 
pardon  of  their  sins,  and  reconciliation  with  God.  Af- 
ter this  universal  and  effectual  expiation,  no  other  was 
of  the  least  use  or  value.  Accordingly,  in  every  coun- 
try that  embraced  the  Gospel,  all  sacrifices,  both  animal 
and  human,  immediately  ceased  ;  and  a  sudden  and 
absolute  period  was  put  to  that  incredible  effusion  of 
blood,  which  had  deluged  the  world  almost  firom  the 
very  creation  down  to  that  time. 

•  Hebrews  x.  10.  14;. 


270  SERMON  XXI. 

IV.  At  the  same  time,  that  the  sacrifice  made  by 
Christ  upon  the  cross  put  an  end  to  all  other  sacrifices, 
it  gave  (what  they  could  never  give)  an  absolute  cer- 
tainty of  pardon,  on  the  condition  of  repentance  and 
reformation  of  life.  This  it  was  impossible  that  any 
one  could  rationally  expect  from  the  slaughter  of  an 
innocent  animal,  much  less  from  that  of  a  humarr  be- 
ing. Both  these  acts  seemed  in  themselves,  rather 
calculated  to  increase  guilt  than  to  take  it  away.  God 
might,  indeed,  if  he  pleased,  accept  the  commutation  of 
one  life  for  another ;  and  it  was  on  this  presumption 
that  the  Heathen  world  adopted  the  custom  of  sacrifices. 
But  this  was  certainly  a  mere  presumption.  Without 
an  express  revelation  of  the  divine  will  in  this  respect, 
no  one  could  be  absolutely  sure  that  such  a  substitu- 
tion would  be  accepted.  But  God  has  now  actually 
declared  in  the  Gospel,  that  he  does  accept  the  death 
of  Christ  as  a  propitiation  for  our  sins.  And  to  put 
this  beyond  all  doubt,  he  has  ratified  and  confirmed 
that  acceptance  by  a  public,  significant  and  decisive 
act  of  approbation,  the  act  of  raising  him  from  the 
dead. 

V.  The  death  of  Christ  is  also  a  seal  and  confirma- 
tion of  the  new  covenant  betwixt  God  and  man. 

For  it  was  the  custom  of  almost  all  ancient  nations, 
both  Jews  and  Gentiles,  to  ratify  their  treaties  and 
covenants  by  sacrifices.  Of  this  you  may  see  instances 
in  various  parts  of  Scripture^,  and  in  several  Heathen 
historians!.  In  condescension  therefore  to  the  manner 
of  men,  and  to  confirm  their  faith  in  his  promises,  God 
did,  by  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  seal  and  ratify  his  new- 
covenant  of  mercy  with  mankind  ;  upon  which  account 
the  death  of  our  blessed  Lord  is  called  (as  the  Jew  ish 
sacrifices  also  were)  "  the  blood  of  the  co'ueiiantX-'''' 
This,  thjKrefore,  is  another  excellent  purpose  answer- 
ed, by  that  method  of  redeeming  us  which  God  was 
pleased  to  fix  upon  :  that  it  is  conformable  to  all  those 
Ibederal  rights  by  which  men  were  wont  to  confirm  their 

*  Gen.  xv-     Jerem.   xxxir.         f  Livy,  lib.  i.  c.  24.  &c.  &.c. 
+  Heb.  X.  20  \  xii.    2\.     Ex.  XAiv.    8- 


SERMON  XXI.  271 

covenants  with  each  other;  and  thus  gives  us  every 
possible  assurance,  not  only  by  words,  but  by  the  most 
expressive  actions,  that  God  ^^  ill  perform  all  h.s  gra- 
cious promises  made  to  us  in  the  Gospel,  provided  we 
lalfil  the  conditions  on  which  alone  those  promises  are 

made.  ,  .  ,       ...         .. » , 

These  are  somco^  die  reasons  which  mightj  possibly 
induce  our  Maker  to  fix  on  the  death  of  his  Son  as  the  • 
best  method  of  redeeming  mankind  ;  and  there  may 
be,  and  undoubtedly  are,  many  other  reasons  for  that 
choice,  unknown  to  us,  still  more  wise  and  more  be- 
nevolent  than  those  already  specified.  \et  these  are 
abundandy  sufficient  to  convince  us,  that  the  redcmp- 
tion  wrought  for  us  by  Christ  upon  die  cross,  carries 
in  it  the  plainest  marks  of  diMue  wisdom.  _ 

Still,  however,  it  may  be  urged,  and  it  often  is  urged 
with  ^reat  confidence,  that  even  admitting  the  force  ot 
everv  thing  here  said,  admitting  the  necessity  of  some 
sacrifice  for  the  expiation  of  sin,  and  a  sacrifice  too  ot 
o-rcat  value  and  dignity  ;    yet  after  all,  it  seems  utterly 
incredible,  that  the  death  of  no  less  a  person  than  the 
Son  of  God  himself  should  be  necessary  for  this  pur- 
pose  ;  and  that  he,  in  uhom  all  the  fulness  of  the  god- 
head  dwelt,  should  ever  consent  and  condescend  to  be- 
come that  sacrifice,  and  to  expire  in  agonies  on  the  cross 
for  such  a  creature  as  man,  who  occupies  so  small  ana 
and  seemingly  so  inconsiderable  a  place  in  the  immensi- 
ty of  the  universe.  • 

There  is  undoubtedlv  something  very  astonishing 
in  this  circumstance.  But  there  are  not  wantir.g  con- 
siderations, which  may,  in  some  degree,  tend  to  ac- 
count even  for  this  acknowledged  difficulty.   ^ 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  a  very  extraordinory  per- 
sonage mentioned  in  Scripture,  uhose  existence  it  is 
the  fashion  of  die  present  day  to  doubt  and  to  deride, 
and  to  explain  a^^•ay  some  of  the  most  striking  eftects 
of  his  power  into  allegory,  metaphor,  vision,  and  ima- 
irination.  He  is,  notv.  id^.standing  described  by  the 
Sicred  writers  in  the  plainest  v.nd  the  clearest  terms, 
and  represented  as  a  beln-  of  high  rank,  of  great  pow- 


2n  SERMON  XXI. 

er,  and  prodigious  art  and  strength.  The  names  there 
given  him  are,  Satan,  Beelzebub,  the  Devil,  and  the 
Prince  of  the  Devils  ;  and  he  appears  to  be  in  a  state 
of  perpetual  hostility  against  (5od  and  Christ,  and  this 
lower  world,  over  which  he  has  very  considerable  in- 
fluence. He  is  described  by  our  Saviour  under  the 
image  of  a  strong  man^^  \\'hom  it  was  necessary  to  bind 
before  you  could  spoil  his  house.  He  is  called  the 
Prince  of  the  Power  of  the  Airf  ;  the  Prince  of  this 
World|;  and,  by  St.  Paul,  the  God  of  this  Workl||. 
He  is  represented  as  being  at  the  head  of  a  numerous 
and  formidable  host  of  wicked  spirits  ;  to  whom  St. 
Paul  gives  the  title  of  principalities,  and  powers,  and 
rulers  of  this  world  §.  And  in  another  place  they  are 
said  to  be  his  angels*[[.  To  this  malignant  and  insidi- 
ous Being  was  owing  the  fall  of  our  first  parents,  and 
all  the  tragical  consequences  of  that  fetal  event,  the  in- 
troduction of  death  and  sin,  and  every  kind  of  natural 
and  moral  evil,  into  the  world.  On  these  ruins  of  hu- 
man nature  did  this  tremendous  spirit  erect  his  infernal 
throne,  and  established  an  astonishing  dominion  over 
the  minds  of  men,  leading  them  into  such  acts  of  folly, 
stupidity,  and  wickedness,  as  are  on  no  other  prin- 
ciple to  be  accounted  for ;  into  the  grossest  super- 
stitions, into  the  most  brutal  and  senseless  idolatry, 
into  the  most  unnatural  and  abominable  crimes, 
into  the  most  execrable  rites  and  inhuman  sacrifice**. 
Nay,  what  is  still  more  deplorable,  he  gave  the  finish- 
ing stroke  to  the  disgrace  and  humiliation  of  mankind, 
by  setting  up  himself -Ci^  the  object  of  their  adoration, 
and  that  too  (to  complete  the  insult)  under  that  very 
form  which  he  had  assumed  to  betray  and  to  destroy 
them  ;  I  mean  that  of  the  serpent  ;  the  worship  of 
which  disgusting  and  odious  animal,  it  is  well  known, 
prevailed  to  an  incredible  degree  in  almost  every  part 
of  the  Pas^an  world,   and  is  still  to  be  found  in  some 

*  Matth.  xii.  29.       +  Ephes.   ii.  2.  1  John  xii.  31. 

}|  2  Cor.  iv.  4.  §  Ephes.  vi.,12.  \  Matth.  xxv.  41. 

**  Nothing  less  than  diabolical  influence  can  account  for  the  almost  uni- 
versal custom  of  human  sacrifices,  and  the  attrocious  outrages  on  ail  decency 
perpetrated  in  some  of  the  sacred  rites  of  Egypt,  Greece,  and  Hiado&tati.. 
See  Maurice's  Indian  Antiquilies,  vol.  i.  p.  256,  2r4. 


SERMON  XXI.  273 

parts   of  Africa*.     In  this  manner  did   Satan   lord  It 
over  the  human  race,  till  our   blessed  Saviour  appear- 
ed on  earth.     At  that  time  his  tyranny  seems  to  have 
arrived  at  its  utmost  height,    and  to   have  extended  to 
the  bodies  as  well  as  to  the  souls  of  men,  of  both  which 
he  sometimes  took  absolute  possession  ;  as  we  see  in 
the  history   of  those    unhappy    persons    mentioned  in 
Scripture,   whom  wc  call  Demoniacs,  and  who  were 
truly  said  to  be /JC5^(r^^<?<^  by  the  devil.     It  Mas  there- 
fore   necessary,    in  order  to  accomplish  the  complete 
Redemption  of  mankind,  to  subdue  in  the  first  place 
this  their  most  formidable  and  determined  enemy,  to 
destroy  his  power,   to  overthrow  his  kingdom,  and  to 
rescue  all  the  sons  of  men  from  that  horrible  and  dis- 
graceful   state  of  slavery,  in  which  he  had  long  held 
them  enthralled.     Now  to  execute   a  work   of  such 
magnitude  and  sucli,  difficulty,  some  agent  of  extraor- 
dinary ranl^,    and  extraordinary  authority  and  power, 
was  plainly  necessary.    Such  a  personage  was  our  bles- 
sed Lord ;    who  therefore    spontaneously   undertook, 
and  successfully  accomplished,  this  most  arduous  en- 
terprize.     The  very  first  preparatory  step  he  took  be- 
fore he  entered  on  his  ministry  was,   to  establish  his 
superiority  over  this  great  enemy  of  the  human  race, 
which  he  did  in  that  memorable  scene  of  the  tempta- 
tion in  the  wilderness.     And  throughout  the  whole  of 
his  future  life,  there  appears  to  have  been  a  constant 
and  open  enmity  and  warfare  between  Christ  and  Beel- 
zebub, between  the  Prince  of  this  world  and  the  Saviour 
of  it,  between  the  Powers  of  Darkness  and  the  Spirit- 
ual Light  of  the  world,  between  the  kingdom  of  Satan 
and  the  kingdom  of  Jesus.     When  all  this  is  taken 
into  consideration,  it  will  no  longer  be  a  matter  of  sur- 
prise, that  the  beloved  Son  of  God  himself  should  con- 
ticscend  to  come  among  us,    unworthy   as  mc  are  of 
such  a  distinction.     For  nothing  less  than  his  almighty 

•  See  Br/ant's  Ancient  Mythology,  vol.  i.  de  opkiolatria. — A  serpent  was 
adored  in  Egypt  as  an  emblem  of  the  divine  nature  ;  and  in  Casliniere  there 
were  no  less  tlian  700  jilaces  where  carved  fijjures  of  snakes  were  worship- 
ped.    Maurkt^ct  Indian  Antitfuitivj,;     vv\.    i.  ]).  291. At    Whydah,   on 

the  Gold  Coast,  a  snake  is  tlie  principal  object  of  v.oihhip.     Sec   Evidence 
UK  the  Suii-e  Trade. 

LI 


274  SERMON  XXL 

power  could  probably  have  vanquished  that  dreadful 
adversary  we  had  to  deal  with,  ar.d  whose  defeat  and 
humiliation  appear  to  have  been  essentially  necessary 
to  our  salvation^-^. 

There  is  still  another  consideration,  which  merits 
some  regard  in  this  question. 

It  is,  I  believe,  generally  taken  for  granted,  that  it 
was  for  the  human  race  alone  that  Christ  suffered  and 
died  ;  and  we  are  then  asked,  with  an  air  of  triumph, 
wliether  it  be  conceivable,  or  in  any  degree  credible, 
that  the  eternal  Son  of  God  should  submit  to  so  much 
indignity  and  so  much  misery  for  the  fallen,  the  wick- 
ed, the  wretched  inhabitants  of  this  small  globe  of 
earth,  which  is  as  a  grain  of  sand  to  a  mountain,  a 
mere  s[)eck  in  the  universe,  when  compared  M'ith  that 
immensity  of  worlds,  and  systems  of  worlds,  which 
the  sagacity  of  a  great  modern  astronomer  has  discov- 
ered in  the  boundless  regions  of  spacef . 

But  on  what_ ground  is  it  concluded,  that  the  bene- 
fits of  Christ's  death  extend  no  further  than  to  our- 
selves ?  As  well  might  we  suppose,  that  the  sun  was 
placed  in  the  firmament  merely  to  illuminate  and  to 
warm  this  earth  that  we  inhabit.  To  the  vulgar  and 
the  illiterate,  this  actually  appears  to  be  the  case.  But 
philosophy  teaches  us  better  things.  It  enlarges  our 
contracted  views  of  divine  beneficence,  and  brings  us 
acquai'ited  with  other  planets  and  other  worlds,  which 
share  with  us  the  cheering  influence  and  the  vivifying 
warmth  of  that  glorious  luminary.  Is  it  not  then  a  fair 
analogy  to  conclude,  that  the  great  Spiritual  Light  of 
the  %vodd,  the  Fountain  of  life,  and  health,  and  joy  to 
the  soul,  does  not  scatter  his  blessings  over  the  crea- 
tion with  a  more  sparing  hand,  and  that  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness  rises  with  healing  in  his  wings  to  other 
orders  of  beings  besides  ourselves  ?  Nor  does  this  con- 
clusion rest  on  analogy  alone.  It  is  evident  from  Scrip- 
ture itself,  that  we  are  by  no  means  the  only  creatures 

*  See  John  xii.  31  ;    xiv.  30  ;  xvi.  11.     2  Cor.   iv.  4.     Ephes.   ii.  2  ;  vi 
12.     Ccl.  ii.  15 — "Through  deuvh,   he  destroyed   him  that  had.  the  power 
»♦  of  dcuth  J  thiU   is,  the  devil."     Heb   ii.  14. 
±  Dr.  Heibcliell. 


SERMON  XXI.  275 

ill  the  universe  interested  in  the  sacrifice  of  our  Re- 
deemer.  We  are  expressly  told,  that  as  "  by  him 
*<  were  all  things  created  that  are  in  hea\'en  and  that 
*'  are  in  earth,  visible  and  invisible ;  and  by  him  all 
*'  thing  consist  :  so  by  him  also  was  God  pleased 
*'  (having  made  peace  through  the  blood  of  his  cross) 
»'  to  reconcile  all  things  tmto  himself  vd^ethe-r  they  be 
*'  things  in  earth,  or  things  in  hean^en :  that  in  the  dis- 
*'  pensation  of  the  fulness  of  times,  he  might  gather 
"  together  in  one  all  things  in  Christ,  both  ivhicb  are 
*'  i?i" heaven,  a?idivhich  are  on  earth,  even  in  him*.''' 

From  intimations  such  as  these,  it  is  highly  probable, 
that  in  the  great  work  of  Redemption,  as  Vvcll  as  of 
Creation,  there  is  a  vast  stupendous  plan  of  wisdom, 
of  which  we  cannot  at  present  so  much  as  conceive  the 
whole  compass  and  extent.     And  if  we  could  assist 
and  improve  the  mental  as  we  can  the  corporeal  sight ; 
if  we  could  magnify  and  bring  nearer  to  us,   by  the 
help  of  instruments,  the  great  component  parts  of  the 
spiritual,  as  we  do  the  vast  bodies  of  the  natural  world  ; 
there  can  be  no  doubt,  that  the  resemblance  and  analo- 
gy would  hold  between  them  in  this  as  it  does  in  many 
other  well-known  instances  ;  and  that  a  scene  of  won- 
ders would  burst  in  upon  us  from  the  one,  at  least 
equal,  if  not  superior,  to  those,  which  the  united  pow- 
ers of  astronomy  and  of  optics  disclose  to  us  in  the  other. 
If  this  train  of  reasoning  be  just,    (and  who  is  there 
that  will  undertake  to  say,  much  more  to  prove  that  it 
is  not  so?)   if  the  Redemption  wrought  by  Christ  ex- 
tended to  other  worlds,  perhaps  many  others  besides 
our   own ;    if  its  virtues  penetrate  even  into  heaven 
itself;  if  it  gather  together  all  things  in  Christ  ;  who 
will  then  say,  that  the  dignity  of  the  agent  was  dispro- 
portioned  to  the  magnitude  of  the  work  ;  and  that  it 
was  not  a  scene  sufficiently  splendid  for  the  Son  of  God 
himself  to  appear  upon,  and  to  display  the  riches   of 
his  love,  not  only  to  the  race  of  man,  but  to   many 
Qther  orders  of  intelligent  beings  ? 

•  Col.  i.  16.  20.  Eph.  i.  10. 


276  SERMON  XXT. 

Upon  the  whole,  it  is  certainly  unpardonable  in  such 
a  creature  as  man  to  judge  of  the  system  of  our  Re- 
demption, from  that  very  small  part  of  it  which  he  now 
sees;  to  reason  as  if  we  ourselves  were  the  only  per- 
sons concerned  in  it,  and  on  that  ground  to  raise  cavils, 
and  difficulties,  and  objections,  and  represent  the  cross 
of  Christ  as  foolishness,  when,  alas,  it  is  we  only  that 
are  foolish  ! 

There  m.ay  undoubtedly  be  many  other  ways  in 
which  the  Redemption  of  man  might  have  been  effect- 
ed. But  this  v.e  are  sure  cf,  that  the  way  in  which  it 
is  effected,  is  the  wisest  and  the  best,  for  this  plain  rea- 
son, because  the  wisest  and  the  best  of  Beinirs  has  cho- 
sen  it.  It  has  been  shown,  that  even  with  our  short- 
sighted faculties,  and  with  our  very  imperfect  know- 
ledge of  the  subject,  we  can  discover  some  reasons 
which  might  render  this  way  of  redeeming  us 
preferable  to  any  other  ;  and  we  have  seen  also,  that  it 
may  have  a  relation  to  other  beings,  whose  situation 
and  circumstances,  if  fully  and  clearly  m.ade  known 
to  us,  would  probably  furnish  us  with  still  strong- 
er reasons  to  admire  and  adore  the  wisdom  of  God's 
proceedings  towards  his  creatures.  But  even  admitting, 
that  the  benefits  of  this  most  extnordinary  dispensation 
w'ere  designed  to  reach  no  further  than  this  world,  and 
that  Christ  died  solely  "  for  us  men,  and  for  our  sal- 
*'  vation  ;"  what  other  rational  conclusion  can  be 
drawn  from  this  supposition,  than  that  we  ought  to  be 
impressed  with  a  deeper  and  a  livelier  sense  of  his  un- 
bounded G;oodness  to  the  children  of  men  ? 

That  the  Son  of  God  should  feel  such  compassion 
for  the  human  race,  as  voluntarily  to  undertake  the 
great  and  arduous,  and  painful  task  of  rescuing  them 
from  death,  and  sin,  and  misery  ;  that  for  this  purpose 
he  should  condescend  to  quit  the  bosom  of  his  Father, 
and  the  joys  of  heaven  ;  should  divest  himself  of  the 
glory  that  he  had  before  the  world  began  ;  should  not 
only  take  upon  himself  the  nature  of  man,  but  the  form 
of  a  servant  ;  should  submit  to  a  low  and  indigent  con- 
dition, to   indignities,   to  injuries  and   insults,   and  at 


SERMON  XXI.  211 

length  to  a  disgraceful  and  excruciating  death,  is  indeed 
a  mystery.  But  it  is  a  mystery  of  kindness  and  of 
mercy  ;  it  is  as  tne  apostle  truly  calls  it,  *'  a  love  that 
"  passeth  knowledge*;"  a  degree  of  tenderness,  pity, 
and  condescension,  to  which  we  have  neither  words 
nor  conceptions  in  any  degree  equal.  It  is  impossible 
for  us,  whenever  we  reflect  upon  it,  not  to  cry  out  with 
the  Psalmist,  *'  Lord,  what  is  man  that  thou  art  mindful 
"  of  him,  and  the  son  of  man  that  thou  visitest 
♦*  himf." 

And  what  effect  should  this  reflection  have  upon  our 
hearts  ?  Should  it  dispose  us  to  join  with  the  disputer 
of  this  world,  in  doubting  and  denying  the  wisdom  of 
the  Almighty  in  the  plan  of  our  redemption,  and  in 
quarrelling  with  the  means  he  has  made  use  of  to  save 
us,  because  they  appear  to  our  weak  understandings 
strange  and  unaccountable  !  Shall  the  man  who  is 
sinking  under  a  mortal  disease,  refuse  the  medicine 
which  will  infallibly  restore  him,  because  he  is  ignorant 
of  the  ingredients  of  which  it  is  composed  ?  Shall  the 
criminal  who  is  condemned  to  death,  reject  the  pardon 
that  is  unexpectedly  offered  him  because  he  cannot  con- 
ceive in  what  manner  and  by  what  means  it  was  obtain- 
ed for  him  ?  Shall  we,  who  are  all  criminals  in  the  sight 
of  God,  and  are  all  actually  (till  redeemed  by  Christ) 
under  the  sentence  of  death  ;  shall  wc  strike  back  the 
arm  that  is  graciously  stretched  out  to  save  us,  merely 
because  the  mercy  offered  to  us  is  so  great,  that  we 
are  unable  to  grasp  with  our  understanding  the  whole 
extent  of  it  ?  Shall  the  very  magnitude,  in  short,  of 
the  favor  conferred  upon  us,  be  converted  into  an  ar- 
gument against  receiving  it  ;  and  shall  we  determine 
not  to  be  saved,  because  God  chuses  to  do  it  not  in 
our  way,  but  his  own  ? 

That  in  this  and  many  other  instances  his  ways  are 
mysterious,  and  past  finding  out,  is  undoubtedly  true. 
But  let  it  be  remembered  always,  that  the  mysterous 
part  relates  only  to  what  he  has  done  for  us  ;  what  we 
buve  to  do  (which  is  all  that  it  concerns  us  to  know)  is 

*  Ej;h.  ill.  19.  t  I'salm  viii.  4. 


278  SERMON  XXI. 

perfectly  clear  and  intelligible.  It  is  nothing  more  than 
this,  that  we  prostrate  ourselves  with  all  humility  be- 
fore the  throne  of  grace,  and  adore  the  goodness  of  our 
Maker  in  consenting,  on  any  terms  to  extend  his  mercy 
to  us  ;  that  we  embrace,  with  gratitude  and  thankful- 
ness, the  great  salvation  offered  to  us  by  the  death  of 
Christ,  and  exert  our  utmost  endeavors  to  render  our- 
selves capable  of  sharing  in  the  benefits  of  that  sacri- 
fice, by  fulfilling  the  conditions,  the  only  conditions,  on 
which  we  can  be  admitted  to  partake  of  it ;  that  is,  "  by 
*'  denying  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  and  liv- 
*' ing  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly  in  this  present 
"  world*." 

*  Tit.  ii.  12. 


SERMON  XXII. 


Psalm  iv.  4. 

Commune  ttdt/i  your  own  heart,   and  in  your  chcnnber,  and  be  still. 

TO  commune  with  our  o^\  n  hearts,  is,  in  the  lan-» 
guage  of  Scripture,  to  retreat  from  the  Morld,  and 
give  ourselves  up  to  private  meditation  and  reflection- 
But  as  the  subjects  of  our  meditation  may  be  very  dif- 
ferent, in  order  to  know  what  kind  of  self-communion 
is  here  meant,  we  must  consider  the  purposes  which 
the  Psalmist  had  in  view.  These  purposes  are  speci- 
fied in  the  former  part  of  the  verse,  "  Stand  in  awe, 
"  and  sin  not  ;"  to  which  is  immediately  subjoined,  as 
the  means  of  impressing  this  sacred  awe  upon  the  mind, 
*'  Commune  with  your  oxvn  heart,  and  in  your  cham- 
*' ber,  and  be  still."  The  design,  therefore,  of  the 
self-communion  here  recommended  is,  to  restrain  us 
from  vice  ;  to  cherish  and  improve  the  seeds  of  vir- 
tue ;  to  give  us  leisure  for  examining  into  the  state  of 
our  souls  :  to  stamp  upon  our  hearts  a  love  of  God  and 
a  reverence  of  his  laws  ;  to  make  us,  in  short,  "  stand 
*'  in  awe,  and  sin  not." 

Such  is  the  puq^ort  of  the  injunction  in  the  text :  and 
a  more  important  one  it  is  not  easy  to  imagine  :  it  is, 
indeed,  an  essential  and  indispensible  requisite  towards 
our  well-being,  both  here  and  hereafter.  For  if  we 
will  never  stand  still  and  consider,  how  is  it  possible 
we  should  ever  go  on  well  ?  Yet,  notwithstanding  the 
evident  necessity  of  reflection  to  an  intelligent  and  ac- 
countable being,  a  very  large  part  of  mankind  seem  to 


^80  SERMON  XXlt. 

have  formed  a  resolution  never  to  think  at  all.  They 
take  the  utmost  pains  that  they  may  never  experience 
the  misfortune  of  finding-  themselves  alone  and  still,  may" 
never  have  a  single  moment  left  for  serious  recollec- 
tion. They  plunge  themselves  into  vice ;  they  dissi* 
pate  themselves  in  amusement  i  they  entangle  them- 
selves in<^business  ;  they  engage  in  eager  and  endless 
pursuits  after  riches,  honors,  power,  fame,  every 
trifle,  every  vanity  that  strikes  their  imagination  ;  and 
to  these  things  they  give  themselves  up,  body  and  soul, 
without  ever  once  stopping  to  consider  vvhat  they  are 
doing  and  where  they  are  going,  and  what  the  conse- 
quence must  be  of  all  this  wildness  and  folly.  In  vain 
does  Reason  itself  sometimes  represent  to  them,  that 
if  there  really  be  another  state  of  existence,  it  is  insanity 
never  to  concern  themselves  about  it :  in  vain  does 
God  command  them,  "  to  watch  and  pray,  and  to 
"  work  out  their  salvation  w  ith  fear,  and  trembling  ;" 
in  vain  does  Religion  call  upon  them  to  withdraw  a  lit- 
tle from  the  busy  scene  around  them,  to  retire  to  their 
own  chamber,  to  be  there  quiet  and  still,  to  commune 
with  their  own  hearts,  to  prostrate  themselves  before 
God,  to  lament  their  sins,  to  acknowledge  their  wretch- 
edness, and  entreat  forgiveness  through  the  merits  of 
their  Redeemer.  Against  all  these  admonitions  they  shut 
their  ears,  and  harden  their  hearts  ;  ar.d  press  forward 
with  intrepid  gaiety  in  the  course  they  are  emarked  in, 
which  they  insist  upon  to  be  the  only  w  ise  one.  To 
that  wisdom  then,  and  the  fruits  of  it,  we  must  leave 
them,  with  our  earnest  prayers  to  God,  that  they  may 
see  all  things  that  belong  to  their  peace  before  they  are 
for  ever  hid  from  their  eyes.  But  whatever  may  be- 
come of  this  giddy  unthinking  multitude,  we,  m.y  breth- 
ren, who  are  brought  here  by  a  sense  of  duty,  must  see, 
that  if  we  hope  either  to  understand  that  duty,  or  to 
fulfil  it,  we  must  sometimes  retire  and  thirik  of  it. 
Even  the  best  and  greatest  of  men,  have  found  this 
self-communion  necessary  to  preserve  them  from  sin 
and  error.  The  royal  Psalmist  more  especially,  who 
gave  us  the  precept,  enforced  it  powerfully  by  his  owu 


SERMON  XXir.  281 

example.  Though  no  one  was  more  attentive  to  the 
interests  of  his  people,  and  good  government  of  his 
kingdom,  had  a  greater  variety  of  weighty  objects  to 
engage  his  thoughts,  more  difficulties  to  encounter,  or 
more  temptations  to  combat  than  he  ;  }ct  he  never  suf- 
fered either  business,  grief,  or  pleasure,  so  entirely  to 
possess  his  soul,  as  to  exclude  the  great  concerns  of 
Religion  ;  but  wherever  or  however  situated,  he  found 
time  to  commune  with  himself;  he  frequently  retired 
at  morning,  and  evening,  and  noon-day,  to  review  his 
conduct,  to  examine  into  the  state  of  his  soul,  and 
search  out  his  spirits,  to  bless  God  for  his  past  mer- 
cies, or  implore  his  future  protection.  'I'hose  anima- 
ted compositions  he  has  left  us  under  the  name  of 
Psalms,  are,  in  general,  nothing  more  than  the  fervent 
expressions  of  his  piety  on  these  occasions,  the  con- 
versations he  held  with  his  own  heart.  It  is  in  these 
he  unbosoms  himself  without  reserve,  and  pours  forth 
his  whole  soul  before  God.  We  are  admitted  into  the 
deepest  recesses,  and  see  the  most  secret  w^orkings,  of 
his  mind.  We  see  him  possessed  alternately  with  hopes 
and  fears,  doubt  and  confidence,  sorrow  and  joy  ;  and 
agitated,  by  turns,  with  all  those  different  passions  and 
emotions  which  the  different  aspects  of  his  soul,  on  the 
most  careful  review,  would  naturall}^  excite.  By  these 
well-timed  retreats  he  prevented  any  presumptuous  sin, 
if  not  from  accidentally  surprizing  him,  yet  at  least 
from  getting  the  dominion  over  him ;  and  though  he 
sometimes  slipt,  and  sometimes  even  fell,  yet  he  in- 
stantly rose  again,  more  vigorous  and  alert  to  the  dis- 
charge of  his  duty. 

But  we  have  diis  practice  of  self-communion  recom- 
mended to  us  by  a  still  holier  and  brighter  example, 
that  of  the  blessed  Jesus  himself.  The  nature  of  his  mis- 
sion, indeed,  and  the  boundless  benevolence  of  his  tem- 
per, necessarily  led  him  to  mingle  in  society  ;  to  listen 
to  every  call  of  humanity ;  to  go  about  doing  good,  heal- 
ing diseases,  relieving  infirmities,  correcting  errors,  re- 
moring  prejudices,  forgiving  sins,  inculcating  re- 
pentance ;   promoting  piety,  justice,   cliarity,     peace, 

Mm 


282  SERMON  XXIL 

harmony,  courtesy,  cheerfulness  among  men  ;  crowd- 
ing, in  short  into  the  narrow  compass  of  his  ministry^ 
more  acts  of  humanity  and  kindness,  than  the  longest 
life  of  the  most  beneficent  m.an  on  earth  ever  yet  pro- 
duced. Yet,  in  this  active  course  of  life,  we  find  him 
frequently  breaking  away  from  the  crowds  that  sur- 
rounded him,  and  betaking  himself  to  privacy  and  soli- 
tude. The  desert,  the  mountain,  and  the  garden,  were 
scenes  which  he  seemed  to  love,  and  with  which  he 
took  all  opportunities  of  refreshing  himself ;  pur- 
chasing them  sometimes  even  at  the  expense  of  night- 
watches,  Vvhen  the  day  had  been  wholly  taken  up  in  the 
offices  of  humanity,  and  the  business  of  his  mission. 
Here  it  was  he  spent  whole  hours  in  pious  contempla- 
tion and  fervent  prayer  ;  in  adoring  the  goodness  of 
God  to  mankind ;  in  expressing,  on  his  own  part,  the 
utmost  submission  to  his  divine  will  ;  in  reviewing  the 
progress,  and  looking  to  the  completion,  of  the  great 
work  he  had  undertaken  ;  in  confirming  his  resolutions, 
and  strengthening  his  soul  against  the  severe  trials  he 
was  to  undergo  in  the  prosecutibn  of  it.  From  these 
retreats,  and  these  holy  meditations,  he  came  out 
again  into  public,  net  gloomy  and  languid,  not  dis- 
gusted with  the  world  and  discontented  with  himself^ 
but  Avith  recruited  spirits,  and  a  redoubled  ardor  of 
benevolence  ;  prepared  to  run  again  his  v/onted  course, 
and  to  pour  fresh  benefits  and  mercies  on  mankind. 

If  then  not  only  the  pious  author  of  the  text,  but 
the  divine  Author  of  our  faith  himself,  found  retire- 
ment and  recollection  necessary  to  the  purposes  of  a 
holy  life,  there  can  be  little  doubt  of  its  use  and  im- 
portance to  ail  that  are  desirons  of  treading  in  their 
steps.  But  I  shall  endeavor  to  shew  still  more  dis- 
tinctly the  advantages  attending  it,  by  laying  before 
you  the  following  considerations  ;  considerations,  which 
the  present  holy  season-^^,  set  apart  for  the  practice  of 
this  very  duty,  will,  I  hope,  assist  in  pressing  home, 
upon  your  hearts. 

*  This  Sermon  was  preached  at  St.  James'  Ch;\pel  on  the  first  day  of 
Lent,  Feb.  6,  irS8. 


SERMON  XXII.  283 

I.  In   the  first  pUicc,    it  i^  a  truth   too   notorious 
to   be   denied,    and   too   mcliinehoiy   not  to    be    la- 
mented,  that  the  objects  of  sense,  which  here   sur- 
round us,  make  a  much  deeper  impression  upon  the 
mind  than  the  objects  of  our  faith.     And  tlic  reason  is 
plain.     It  is,  because  the  things  that  are  temporal  are 
seen  ;  are  perpetually  solicinng  our  senses,  and  forcing 
themsch'cs  upon  our  observation  ;  whilst  the  things 
that  are  eternal,  merely  because  they  are  not  seen,  and 
therefore  want  the  advantage  of  continual  importunity 
and    solicitation,    have  but  little  influence    upon   our 
hearts.     It  is,   therefore,  the  first  and  most  obvious 
use  of  retirement,  to  take  off  our  attention  from  the 
things  of  this  world,  and  thereby  to  destroy,  for  a  time 
at  least,  their  attractions.    When  they  cease  to  be  seen, 
or  are  seen  only  in  imagination,  they  lose,  in  a  great 
measure,  their  dominion  over  us.     We  can  then  con- 
template them  in  their  real  forms,   stript  of  that  false 
glare  with  which  they  are  apt  to  dazzle  our  C)  es  and 
mislead  our  understandings.     We  then   plainly  see, 
hou'  little  they  can  boast  of  intrinsic  worth,  hov/  much 
they  owe  to  the  warmth  of  fancy,  the  tumult  of  passion, 
the  ardor  of  pursuit,  and  the  hurry  of  the  world.     For 
as  these  causes  no  longer  operate  in  the  stillness  of  re- 
tirement, every  charm  that  they  bestowed   drops  off, 
and  vanishes  with  them ;  the  objects   of  our  pursuit 
shrink  to  their  proper  dimensions  ;  and  we  are  amazed 
to  see  them  reduced  in  an  instant  almost  to  nothing, 
and  so  little  left  of  all  that  we  gazed  at  with  so  much 
admiration,  and  followed  with  so  much  eagerness. 

II.  If  at  the  same  time  that  we  recede  from  this 
world  we  turn  our  eyes  upon  the  next,  we  shall  reap  a 
double  advantage  from  our  self-communion.  By  fre- 
quently meditating  on  the  concerns  of  eternity,  we 
shall  begin  to  perceive  their  reality,  and  at  last  to  feel 
their  influence.  Spiritual  meditations  are  at  first  very 
irksome  and  disagreeable,  not  because  they  arc  unna- 
tural, but  because  they  are  unusual.  Give  but  the 
soul  a  little  respite,  a  moment's  breathing,  from  the 
incessant  importunity  of  cure  s  and  pleasures^  and  she 


284  SERMON  XXII. 

will  almost  naturally  raise  herself  towards  that  hea- 
venly country,  where  she  hopes  at  last  to  find  rest  and 
happiness.  Every  faculty  and  power,  both  of  the  body 
and  mind,  are  perfected  !:)y  use  ;  and  it  is  by  the  same 
means  that  the  eye  of  faith  is  also  strengthened,  and 
taught  to  carry  its  views  to  the  remotest  futurity.  By 
degrees  we  shall  learn  to  allow  for  the  distances  of 
spiritual,  as  we  do  every  day  for  those  of  sensible,  ob- 
jects ;  and,  by  long  attention  to  their  greatness,  forget 
or  disregard  their  remoteness,  and  see  them  in  their 
full  size  and  proportion.  A  taste  for  religious  medita- 
tions W'ill  grow  upon  us  everyday  ;  and,  by  constant 
perseverance,  we  shall  so  refine  our  sentiments  and  pu- 
rify our  aifections,  as  to  become  what  the  Scriptures 
call  spiritually  minded ;  to  live,  as  it  were,  out  of  the 
body  ;  and  to  walk  by  faith  as  steadily  and  as  surely 
as  we  used 'to  do   by  sight. 

III.  Nothing  is  so  apt  to  wear  off  that  reverence  of 
virtue,  and  abhorrence  of  vice,  with  which  all  well- 
principled  men  enter  into  the  world,  as  a  constant  com- 
merce ivith  the  world.  If  we  have  had  the  happiness 
of  a  good  education,  our  first  judgments  of  men  and 
things  are  generally  right.  We  detest  all  appearance 
of  baseness,  artifice,  and  hypocrisy;  we  love  every 
thing  that  is  fair,  open,  honest,  and  generous.  But 
how  seldom  does  it  happen,  that  we  carry  these  senti- 
ments along  with  us,  and  act  in  conformity  to  them, 
through  life  ?  How  seldom  does  it  happen,  that  we  are 
proof  against  the  freedom  of  conversation,  or  the  con- 
tagion of  example,  which  insensibly  corrupt  the  sim- 
plicity of  our  hearts,  and  distort  the  uprightness  of  our 
opinions.  We  are  aware,  perhaps,  of  the  open  attacks 
upon  our  virtue,  which  every  one  may  see,  and  guard 
against,  if  he  pleases  ;  but  it  is  not  every  one  that  sees 
those  more  secret  enemies,  that  are  perpetually  at  \^ork, 
imdermining  his  integrity.  It  is  scarce  possible  to  be 
always  with  the  multitude,  without  falling  in  with  its 
sentiments,  and  following  it  to  do  evil,  though  we  ne- 
ver intended  it.  The  crowd  carries  us  involuntarily  for- 
ward, v.ithcut  our  seeming  to  take  one  step  ourselves 
in  the  way  that  they  are  going. 


SERMON  XXII.  285 

We  learn,  by  det^rces,  to  think  with  less  abhorrence 
on  what  we  see  eAcry  day  praclised  and  applauded. 
We  learn  to  look  on  bad  examples  with  complacency  ; 
and  it  is  but  too  easy  a  transition,  from  seeing  vice 
without  disgust,  to  practising  it  w  ithout  remorse.  We 
quickly  iiad  out  die  art  of  accommodj\ting  our  duty  to 
our  interests,  and  making  our  opinions  bend  to  our 
inclinations.  We  lose  sight  of  t'le  honest  notiitns  we 
first  set  out  with,  and  adopt  others  more  pliant  in  their 
stead.  The  issues  of  life  thus  corrupted,  the  infection 
soon  spreads  itself  to  our  actions.  We  are  enslaved 
by  habits,  ^\  ithout  feeling  the  chain  thrown  over  us, 
and  become  guilty  of  crimes,  which  we  once  could 
not  think  of  without  shuddering.  It  is  therefore,  of 
the  last  consequence,  to  step  aside  sometimes  from  the 
world,  in  order  to  compare  our  present  way  pf  think- 
ing and  acting  with  our  past  ;  to  try  and  sift  ourselves 
thoroughly  ;  "to  search  out  our  spirits,  and  seek  the 
"  very  ground  of  our  hearts  ;  to  prove  and  examine 
"  our  thoughts  ;  to  look  well,  extremely  well,  if  there 
*'  be  any  way  of  wickedness  in  us  ;  that  if  there  be,  we 
*'  may  turn  from  it  into  the  way  everlasting." 

IV.  As  by  frequendy  conversing  with  a  man,  we 
may  gain  a  tolerable  insight  into  his  true  temper  and 
disposition;  so  a  repeated  communion  with  our  own 
hearts  brings  us  intimately  and  entirely  acquainted 
with  them  ;  discovers  to  us  their  weak  sides,  their 
leading  propensities,  and  ruling  foibles.  It  lays  open 
to  us  all  their  windings  and  recesses,  their  frauds  and 
subtleties.  We  penetrate  through  the  thin  covering 
of  their  f  lir  pretences,  into  their  real  motives.  We 
see,  that  in  most  cases  it  is  hazardous  to  indulge  their 
suggestions  too  easily  and  too  often  ;  we  see,  that  one 
compliance  only  paves  the  way  for  a  second,  till  we 
have  it  no  longer  in  our  power  to  refuse  their  solicita- 
tions. Hence  we  lenrn  to  be  jealous  of  their  encroach- 
ments, and  to  suspect  their  most  specious  proposals. 
We  keep  a  strict  eye  over  all  their  motions,  and  guard 
every  issue  of  life  wit-li  the  utmost  diligence.  By  tra- 
cing the  progress  of  our  passion  on  former  occasions, 


286  SERMON  XXII. 

and  observing  the  fatal  mischiefs  that  followed  from 
suffering  them  to  gain  the  ascendancy  over  us,  we  shall 
learn  tlie  proper  art  of  managing  and  subduing  them  ; 
we  shall  acquire  that  extremely  necessary  science  of 
self-government,  those  admirable  habits  of  prudence 
and  circumspection,  which,  however  by  some  men  neg- 
lected and  despised,  we  shall  find  to  be  exceedingly 
conducive  to  right  conduct  and  real  happiness.  With- 
out thus  reflecting  on  our  past  miscarriages,  and  en- 
<]uiring  into  their  causes,  we  must  for  ever  fall  into  the 
same  mistakes,  be  deceived  by  the  same  appearances, 
surprized  by  the  same  artifices,  and  lose  the  only  con- 
solation (poor  as  it  is)  which  our  past  follies  and  trans- 
gressions can  afford  us,  experience. 

Such  are  the  more  general  uses  of  religous  retire- 
ment and  reflection  :  but  they  will  have  more  peculiar 
advantages,  according  to  the  peculiar  situation  that  we 
are  placed  in. 

If  Providence  has  cast  our  lot  in  a  ftiir  ground,  has 
given  us  a  goodly  heritage,  and  blessed  us  with  a  large 
proportion  of  every  thing  that  is  held  most  valuable  in 
this  world,  rank,  power,  wealth,  beauty,  health,  and 
strength  ;  though  we  may  then,  perhaps,  be  less  dis- 
posed, yet  have  we  more  occasion  for  self-communion 
than  ever.  Refiectio'n  will,  at  that  time,  be  particular- 
ly needful,  to  check  the  extravagance  of  our  joy  ;  to 
preserve  us  from  vanity  and  self-conceit ;  to  keep  our 
pampered  appetites  in  subjection ;  to  guard  us  from 
the  dangers  of  prosperity  and  the  temptations  of  luxury, 
from  dissipation  and  debauchery,  from  pride  and  inso- 
lence, from  that  wanton  cruelty  and  incredible  hardness 
of  heart,  which  high  spirits  and  uninterrupted  hap- 
piness too  often  produce.  Instead  of  these  wild  ex- 
cesses, religious  meditation  will  turn  the  overflov/ings 
■of  our  gladness  into  their  proper  channels,  into  praises 
and  thanksgivings  to  the  gracious  Author  of  our  hap- 
piness, and  a  liberal  communication  to  others  of  the 
blessings  we  enjoy  ;  which  are  the  only  proper  ex- 
pressions of  our  thankfulness,  and  the  only  suitable  re- 
turn for  such  distinguishing  marks  of  the  divine  favor. 


SERMON  XXII.  287 

If,  on  the  contrary,  we  are  oppressed  with,  a  multi- 
tude of  sorro\vs,  with  poverty  or  disease,  with  losses 
and  disappointments,  the  persecution  of  enemies,  or 
the  unkindness  of  friends,  it  is  to  retirc7ne?it  wt  must 
fly  for  consolation  ;  not  to  indulge  ourselves  in  the  sul- 
len satisfaction  of  a  secret  melancholy,  much  less  to 
vent  the  bitterness  of  our  heart  in  frantic  exclamations, 
and  indecent  reflections  on  the  dispensations  of  Provi- 
dence ;  but  after  pouring  out  our  souls  before  God,  to 
go  at  once  to  the  bottom  of  the  evil,  to  search  for  the 
causes  of  our  afdiction  where  they  are  too  often,  alas! 
to  be  found,  but  where  we  very  seldom  think  of  look- 
ing for  them,  in  the  follies  and  miscarriages  of  our  ov/n 
conduct.  And  if  we  are  so  happy  as  to  discover,  and 
so  wise  as  to  correct  them,  we  shall  then  have  fulfilled 
the  end  which  these  sorrov.s  were  probably  designed  to 
answer,  and  *'  it  will  be  even  good  for  us  to  have  been 
"  in  trouble." 

How  absolute!}'  necessary  recollection  is  to  those  who 
are  immersed  in  vice,  is  too  obvious  to  be  insisted  on. 
If,  indeed,  they  have  cast  oiF  all  thoughts  of  Religion, 
and  are  determined  to  sin  on  to  the  last,  they  are  then  in 
the  right  of  it  to  avoid  tJiis  self  communion,  and  to 
decline  all  conversation  v/ith  a  friend  that  might  tell 
them  very  disagreeable  truths.  Their  only  business  is 
then,  not  to  encourage,  but  to  stifle,  reflection  ;  and, 
after  forgetting  their  Maker,  and  every  thing  they 
ought  to  remember,  to  forget  themselves  too,  if  they 
can.  But  if  they  are  touched  vvith  a  sense  of  their 
danger,  and  a  desire  of  amendment,  their  first  step  is 
certainly  to  retire  and  recollect  themselves.  This, 
indeed,  in  general,  is  all  that  is  necessary.  "  I  called 
"  mine  own  ways  to  remembrance,"  says  David;  and 
immediately  adds,  as  an  almost  necessary  consequence, 
and  "  turned  my  feet  unto  thy  testimonies."  "  I  made 
"  haste,  and  prolonged  not  the  time  to  keep  thy  com- 
"  mandments."  This  must  ever  be  the  result  of  a 
serious  deliberation.  The  truths  of  Religion,  more  es- 
pecially of  the  Chrisdan  Religion,  are  so  clear  and  con- 
vincing ;  the  contrast  between  ^iee  and  vii tue,  good 


288  SERMON  XXII. 

and  evil,  so  striking;  the  disproportion  between  a  mo- 
ment of  pleasure  and  an  eternity  of  pain,  so  glaring  and 
undeniable;  that  they  want  nothing  more  than  consider- 
ation to  give  them  their  proper  weight,  insomuch,  that 
to  think  is  to  believe  and  to  be  saved. 

To  such  as  are  already  entered  on  the  paths  of  virtue, 
but  are  yet  at  a  great  distance  from  Christian  perfection, 
it  will  be  highly  useful  to  stop  sometiiri^s,  and  consider 
what  they  have  slready  done,  and  what  they  ^have  still 
to  do  ;  sometimes,  to  prevent  despair,  by  looking  back 
on  the  dangers  they  have  past,  and  sometimes  to  excite 
vigilance,  by  looking  forwards  to  those  before  them  ;  to 
renew,  from  time  to  time,  their  petitions  to  the  Throne 
,of  Grace,  for  that  succor  and  assistance  which  is  so 
necessary  to  support  them  ;  and  above  all,  to  refresh 
their  hopes  and  invigorate  their  resolutions,  by  fre- 
quently looking  up  to  that  crown  of  glory,  which  will 
so  amply  recompencc  all  their  labors. 

Nor  does  even  the  highest  degree  of  perfection  that 
human  nature  can  arrive  at,  place  a  man  above  the  ne- 
cessity of  calling  his  ways  to  remembrance.  Nay, 
perhaps,  recollection  is  then  peculiarly  necessary,  be- 
cause we  are  apt  to  think  it  least  so.  "  Let  him  that 
"  thinketh  he  stands,  take  heed  lest  he  fail."  No 
sooner  do  we  suppose  ourselves  out  of  the  reach  of 
danger,  than  we  cease  to  be  so.  It  becomes  us, 
therefore,  to  be  jealous  of  our  very  virtues,  and  to  let 
our  vigilance  and  circumspection  keep  pace  with  our 
improvements.  Our  condition  in  this  life  is  represent- 
ed in  Scripture  as  a  continual  warfare  ;  and  we  have  a 
very  subtle  adversary  to  deal  wdth,  who  is  ahvays  upon 
the  watch  to  take  advantage  of  our  security.  The  good 
soldier  of  Christ,  therefore,  \\\\\  use  the  same  caution 
in  his  spiritual  as  he  would  in  his  temporal  warfare ; 
he  will  observe  the  same  discipline  after  a  victory,  as 
when  success  was  dubious  ;  for  no  stratagem  has  been 
so  often  practised,  and  has  so  often  succeeded,  as  that 
of  surprizing  a  victorious,  and  therefore  unguarded 
enemy. 


SERMON  XXII.  289 

It  must  be  observed  too,  that  virtue  as  well  as  know- 
ledge is  progressive,  and  if  wc  do  not  gain  gWDund,  we 
lose  it.  There  is  always  some  perfection  to  be  ac- 
quired, or  some  imperfection  to  be  amended.  If  we 
are  not  constantly  strengthening  the  barriers  opposed 
to  our  passions,  by  successively  accumulating  one  good 
principle  upon  another,  they  will  grow  weaker  every 
day,  and  expose  us  to  the  hazard  of  some  sudden  and 
violent  overthrow.  It  is  astonishing  how  much  the 
very  best  men  find  to  do,  even  when  they  are  regular 
and  punctual  in  reviewing  their  conduct ;  how  many 
errors  tl^icy  have  to  rectify,  how  many  omissions  to 
supply,  how  many  excesses  to  retrench,  how  many 
growing  desires  to  control.  The  more  frequently  they 
do  this,  the  more  they  will  see  the  necessity  and 
feel  the  advantage  of  it.  They  will  have  the  pleasure 
too  of  observing,  how  much  they  increase  in  goodness 
and  OTOW  in  e:race,  and  this  will  animate  them  to  still 
higher  attainments.  They  will  never  think  themselves 
suiliciendy  advanced  in  holiness  ;  but  "  forgetting  those 
"  thing's  that  are  behind,  and  reachina;  forth  to  those 
"  things  that  are  before,  they  ^^  ill  go  on  from  strength 
"  to  strength,  and  press  forward  towards  the  mark,  to 
*'  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus*." 

Universally,  therefore,  to  every  person,  in  every 
condition  of  life,  in  every  stage  of  his  spiritual  pro- 
gress, frequent  SELF-COMMUNION  is  an  indispensable 
duty.  If  we  are  accountable  beings,  and  that  we  are, 
not  only  the  Sacred  ^V^ritings  declare,  but  our  facul- 
ties, our  feelings,  our  consciences,  irresistibly  prove 
to  us  ;  if  we  cannot,  without  the  utmost  hazard,  go 
on  at  random,  as  appetite  prompts  or  accident  leads 
us ;  if  every  step  we  take  in  our  moral  conduct  must 
bring  us  nearer  to  heaven  or  to  hell ;  surely  it  behoves 
us  to  call  our  wa}s  seriously  and  frequently  to  rcniem- 
brance  ;  to  consider  them  with  the  utmost  care  and  cir- 
cumspection, and  observe  where  they  terminate,  and 
to  what  point  they  will  cany  us.  Should  avc  find  our- 
selves in  the  right  way,  we  shall  have  the  satisfaction 

•  I'hil.  iii.  13.     Psalm  Ixxxiv.  7- 

Nn 


290  SERMON  XXII. 

of  going  on  in  the  consciousness  of  being  right,  and  of 
acting  well  upon  principle.  Should  we  have  departed 
Avidely  from  the  path  of  our  duty,  it  will  be  high  time 
for  us  to  return  to  it,  lest  we  go  too  flir  to  retreat,  and 
rush  thoughtlessly  forward  into  irretrievable  destruction. 
If  we  have  deviated  but  slightly,  we  shall  prevent  this 
deviation  from  growing  insensibly  wider,  and  regain 
the  ground  we  have  lost  with  little  trouble  or  pain. 
In  many  things  we  offend  all,  even  the  very  best  of 
us ;  and  it  is  far  more  wise  and  prudent  to  find  out 
these  offences  by  reflection,  antl  to  correct  them  by 
suitable  resolutions,  than  to  let  them  accumulate  by 
neglect,  till  some  fatal  mischief  awake  us  to  a  sense  of 
our  duty,  or  the  stroke  of  death  render  it  no  longer 
practicable.  This  single  consideration,  the  possibility 
of  being  called,  even  the  healthiest  and  the  youngest 
of  us,  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  called,  to  give  an 
account  of  ourselves  to  God,  before  we  have  properly 
settled  that  account,  is  of  itself  enough  to  make  us  re- 
flect on  our  condition,  and  to  do  it  also  without  delay. 
We  see  almost  every  day  of  our  lives  the  most  stri- 
king and  aftecting  instances  ofour  precarious  condition. 
We  sec  our  friends  and  neighbors  suddenly  snatched 
away  from  us,  at  a  time  when  we  (perhaps  they  too) 
least  expected  it.  We  see  multitudes  of  others  drop 
around  us,  one  by  one,  till  we  are  left  almost  alone  in 
a  wide  world,  deserted  by  all  those  whom  we  most  in- 
timately knew  and  esteemed.  Yet  all  this  seems  to 
make  little  or  no  impression  upon  us.  We  follow  our 
acquaintances  to  the  grave  ;  we  drop,  perhaps,  a  few 
parting,  imavailing  tears  over  them,  and  then  return 
again  to  the  cares,  the  pleasures,  the  follies  and  the 
vices,  of  the  world,  Vvith  as  much  eagerness  and  alac- 
rity as  if  nothing  at  all  had  happened  that  in  the  least 
concerned  ourselves ;  as  if  there  was  not  the  least 
chance  or  possibility,  that  the  danger,  which  we  see  so 
near  us,  should  at  last  come  home  to  us.  But,  surely, 
these  convincing,  these  alarming  proofs  of  our  mortal- 
ity, ought  to  have  a  little  more  effect  on  our  hearts. 
When  \\  e  see  thousands  flill  beside  us,  and  ten  thou- 


SERMON  XXII.  291 

sands  at  our  right  hand,  wc  ought  to  reflect,  that  our 
turn  may,  perhaps,  be  next ;  that,  at  the  very  best, 
Me  have  no  time  to  lose,  and  that  it  highly  behoves  us 
to  call  our  ways  immediately  to  remembrance  ;  to 
make  haste,  (f(3r  death  will  not  Mait  for  us)  to  make 
haste,  and  prolong  not  the  time,  to  keep  God's  com- 
mandments. When,  in  short,  ^\•e  consider  the  ex- 
treme uncertainty  of  life,  and  the  absolute  certainty  of 
appearing  before  our  Judge  in  the  very  same  state  in 
which  that  life  is  taken  away  from  us,  with  all  our  sins 
and  all  our  infirmities  to  answer  for,  we  can  never  con- 
sent to  trust  our  all  on  so  precarious  a  bottom,  nor  to 
let  our  most  important  concerns  lie  at  the  mercy  of  eve- 
ry accident  that  may  befal  us.  The  loss  of  a  year,  the 
loss  of  a  day,  may  be  the  loss  of  Heaven.  "Thou 
*'  fool,  this  night  shall  thy  soul  be  required  of  thee  :" 
This  was  said  for  our  admonition  :  and  if,  under  this 
apprehension,  we  can  calmly  lay  ourselves  down  to 
sleep,  without  reviewing  our  conduct  or  preparing  our- 
selves to  wake,  as  we  may  do,  in  another  \\  orld,  it  is 
in  vain  to  use  any  further  exhortations.  If  an  argu- 
ment so  plain,  so  simple,  so  forcible,  has  no  influence 
upon  our  minds.  Reason  and  Religion  can  do  nothing 
more  for  us  ;  our  obstinacy  is  incurable,  our  danger 
inexpressible. 

From  that  danger,  may  God  of  his  infinite  mercy- 
preserve  us  all,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 


SERMON  XXIII. 


1  Sam.  xiii.  14. 

The  Lord  hath  sought  him  a  man  after  his  own  heart,  and  the  Lord 
hath  commanded  him  to  be  cajitain  over  his  people. 

*^  Ij  "HERE  is  no  need  to  inform  3'ou  that  the  person 
JL  spoken  of  in  these  words  is  David  king  of  Is- 
rael. The  appellation  of  the  man  after  god's  own 
HEART,  is  a  well-known  distinction,  which  having 
never  been  expressly  bestowed  on  any  other,  'has,  by 
long  usage,  been  appropriated  solely  to  himf.  The 
reason  of  his  being  so  distinguished,  is  generally  pre- 
sumed to  be  the  excellence  of  his  moral  conduct :  be- 
cause a  God,  who  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold  ini- 
quity, can  never  be  supposed  to  delight  in  it  ;  which 
it  is  thought  must  be  the  case,  if  the  man  after  his  own 
heart  was  in  any  degree  an  immoral  man.  On  the 
strength  of  this  supposition,  some  mistaken  friends  of 
Religion,  in  order  to  vindicate  God's  choice,  have 
thought  it  necessary  to  prove  David's  private  character 
perfectly  unexceptionable  ;  and  some  inveterate  ene^ 
mies  of  Religion,  in  order  to  stigmatize  that  choice, 
have  taken  no  less  pains  to  make  him  appear  completely 

*  Tl.is  sermon  was  originaliy  \vritten  and  preached  before  tlie  UniversL 
ty  of  Cambridge,  in  the  year  1761,  in  answer  to  a  profane  and  licentious 
pamphlet,  which  had  its  day  of  celebrity  and  applause  amcrg  a  certain  class 
of  readers  ;  but  is  now,  as  it  deserved  to  be,  and  as  is  the  usual  fate  of 
such  productions,  entirely  forgot.  Those  parts  of  tiie  senr.on,  therefore* 
which  had  a  more  immediate  reference  to  that  publication,  are  now  omit- 
ted ;  and  the  whole  is  rendered  less  polemical  and  more  practical,  and  of 
course,  it  is  hoped,  more  generally  useful. 

•j-  Yet  apijellations  of  nearly  the  same  import  have  been  applied  to  oth- 
ers.   See  below,  pp.  102,  3,  4,  &.c. 


SERMON  XXIII.  293 

detestable.  But  both  the  one  and  the  other  seem  to  me 
to  have  mistaken  the  case,  and  misapplied  their  labor. 
It  was  not,  I  conceive,  for  the  unblemished  sanctity  of 
his  life,  but  for  reasons  of  a  very  different  nature,  that 
King  David  was  distinguished  by  the  honorable  title 
assigned  to  him  in  the  text. 

It  is,  I  believe  universally  allowed,  that  the  chief  de- 
sign  of  God  in  separating  the  Jew  ish  nation  from  the 
rest  of  mankind,  was  to' perpetuate  the   knowledge  of 
himself  by  means  of  this  peculiar  people,   and  to  pre- 
serve the  worship  of  the  one  true  God  amidst  an  idola- 
trous world.     This  was  the  grand  foundation  of  the 
whole  Jewish  polity  ;  the  main  purport  of  their  laws  ; 
the  principle  of  all  God's  dealings  towards  them.  Who- 
ever, therefore,  exerted  himself  vigorously  and  effect- 
ually in  promoting  this  great  end  of  the  Jewish  theoc- 
racy, might,   with   the  strictest  propriety,  be  called  u 
man  after  God's  own  heart  ;  because  he  acted  in  con- 
formity to  the   main  purpose  of  God's  heart :  he  did 
the  very  thing  that  God  wanted  to  have  done  ;  he  for- 
warded' the  grand  design  that  he  had  in  view.     Now 
this  was  preceisely  the  character  of  David,  the  distin- 
guishing excellence  of  his  life.     He  was  a  sincere  and 
hearty  lover  of  his  country,  a  zealous  observer  of  its 
laws,  in  opposition  to  all  idolatry,  from  which  he  ever 
kept  himself  and  his  people  at   the  utmost  distance*'. 
It  was  not  therefore,  on  account  of  his  private  lirtuesy 
but   his  public   conduct  ;  nor  for  a   spodess  purity  of 
manners,  but  for  his  abhorrence  of  idolatry,  and  his 
strict  adherence  to  the  civil  and  religiousf  laws  of  his 
country,  that  David  was  honored  with-the  name  of  the 
man  after  God's  own  heart:]:.     If  any  Christian  writers 

•  See  Le  .Clerc  on  Acts  xiii.  22  ;  Patrick  on  1  Kings  xv.  3,  5. 

t  One  remarkable  instance  of  David's  scrupulous  observance  of  tlie  law, 
in  punctually  complying  with  the  prohibition  given  in  Deut.  xvii.  16.  against 
the  use  of  cavalry  in  war,  see  in  Bishop  Sherlock  on  Projihccy,  Diss.  4, 
p.  370—375.  And  perhaps  his  invariable  obedience  to  this  important  law, 
♦'  which  was  to  be  a  standing  trial  of  prince  and  people,  whether  they  had 
«'  trust  and  confidence  in  God  their  deliverer,"  might  contribute  not  a  little 
towards  procuring  him  this  so  much  envied  distinction. 

±  It  is  certain  that  Abraham  was  called  the  friend  of  Gop,  (adis- 
tinction  no  less  remarkable  than  king  David's)  for  the  reasons  here  assign- 
pd  ;  for  his  auhering  to  the  belief  and  worship  of  the  one  true  God,  in  op- 


294  SERMON  XXIII. 

have  supposed  that  this  title  was  the  mark  of  moral 
perfection^  and  in  consequence  of  that  have  exahed  Da- 
vid's chai'acter  into  a  standard  of  virtue,  they  have, 
with  a  very  good  meaning  perhaps,  done  a  very  inju- 
dicious thing.  The  explanation  here  given  seems  most 
agreeable  to  the  language  of  the  Scriptures,  to  the  ge- 
neral tenor  of  David's  conduct,  to  the  nature  of  the 
■  Jewish  dispensation,  and  the  intentions  of  its  Divine 
Author. 

To  v/hat  has  been  urged  in  favor  of  this  interpreta- 
tion, by  a  very  eminent  writer*,  may  be  added,  that 
though  David  is  in  this  single  passage  called  a  man  af- 
ter God's  own  heart ;  yet  it  is  afterwards  only  said  of 
Him,  in  common  with  several  other  kings,  that  he  "  did 
*'  that  which  was  right  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lordf ;" 
which  expression  seems  intended  to  convey,  and  indeed 
naturally  does  convey,  the  same  meaning  as  the  other.' 
For  it  will  not  be  easy  to  point  out  a  difference  betwixt 
acting  "  according  to  any  one's  heart,"  and  doing  that 
which  "  is  right  in  his  eyes."  By  determining  there- 
fore the  signification  of  this  phrase,  we  shall  arrive  at 
the  true  value  of  that  made  use  of  in  the  text.  Now 
the  expression  of  "  doing  that  which  is  right  in  the  eyes 
*'  of  the  Lord,"  is  constantly  and  uniformly  applied  to 
those,  who  were  eminent  not  so  much  for  their  virtues 
in  a  private,  as  their  zeal  in  a  regal  capacity  ;  for  their 
aversion  to  idolatry,  and  scrupulous  observance  of  the 
law.  Thus,  when  it  is  said  of  Asa|,  that  he  did  that 
\vhich  was  "  good  and  right  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord,'* 
the  reason  assigned  for  it  is,  "  because  he  took  away 
''  the  altars  of  the  strange  gods,  and  the  high  places, 
"  and  brake  down  the  images,  and  cut  down  the  groves ; 
"  and  commanded  Judah  to  seek  the  Lord  God  of  their 
"  fathers,  and  to  do  the  law  and  the  commandment." 
Not  a  word  of  his  moral  character,  though  from  his  do- 
ing  that  which  was  not  only  right  but  good,  one  might 

position  to  the  idolatrous  nations  amongst  whom  he  lived.  See  Clarke's 
Sermons,  vol.  ii.  Disc.  38.  p,  50.  Dublin  edition,  1751,  and  Le  Clerc  on 
Gen.  vi.  9. 

*  See  Divine  Legation  of  Moses,  vol.  iii.  b.  4.  s.  6.  p.  354.  3d  edit, 
f  1  Kings  XV.  5.  \2  Chron.  xiv.  2,  3,  4. 


SERMON  XXIII.  295 

naturally  have  expected  it.  Again,  when  we  are  told 
that  Solomon's  heart  was  not /Ji-zyi-T^  \vith  the  Lord  his 
God  ;  that  he  went  not  fully  after  the  Lord  as  did  Da- 
vid his  father  ;  the  proof  alleged  is,  that  his  wives  turn- 
ed away  his  heart  after  other  gods*.  Whence  it  evi- 
dently appears,  x[\:iX\.hQ  perfection  of  David's  heart  con- 
sisted principally  in  his  inviolable  attachment  to  the 
worship  of  the  true  God,  from  which  he  never  devi- 
ated or  turned  aside,  "  either  to  the  right  hand  or  to 
*'  the  left." 

If  this  explanation  be,  as  it  appears  to  be,  conform- 
able to  truth  and  Scripture,  the  follow  ing  very  useful 
consequences  do  naturally  and  immediately  .flow  from  it. 

I.  That,  in  order  to  vindicate  God's  choice  of  "  a 
*'  man  after  his  own  heart,"  or  the  truth  of  the  Scrip- 
tures in  relating  it,  there  is  no  necessity  to  prove  his 
moral  conduct  fauldessy  or  to  obviate  all  the  accusations 
which  have  been  brought  against  him  ;  because  this 
choice  having  proceeded  on  other  principles,  his  pri- 
vate conduct  is  foreign  to  the  questionf. 

II.  That  we  cannot  draw  conclusions  in  favor  of  any 
crime,  so  as  to  justify  it  in  ourselves,  from  its  having 
been  committed  by  a  "  man  after  God's  own  heart." 
Because,  though  his  conformity  to  the  divine  will  in 
some  very  material  instances,  did  justly  aititle  him  to 
that  appellation  ;  yet  every  vicious  excess  Avas  in  bim, 
(as  it  must  be  in  every  human  creature)  the  object  of 
God's  utter  detestation,  and  very  often  too  of  his  seve- 
rest vengeance. 

III.  That  they  who  have  taken  so  much  pains  to  ri- 
dicule and  vilify  the  character  of  David,  with  a  view  of 

•  1  Kings  xi.  4. 
f  It  has  been  observed,  that  David's  moral  character  seems  to  be  pro- 
nounced fauhless,  (1  Kings  xv.  5.)  except  in  the  matter  of  Uriah.  We  re- 
ply, that  the  Scrijjture  in  this  (as  in  many  other  places)  must  necessarily  be 
understood  to  speak  only  in  general ,-  intimating,  that  king  David's  conduct 
was,  in  the  main,  good  and  right  ;  and  though  he  might  be  guilty  of  other 
faults,  yet  none  of  them  were  so  gross  and  enormous,  so  directly  repugnant 
to  the  ex-press  commands  of  God,  us  this  ;  and  therefore  not  so  necessary  to 
Le  poinied  out,  and  particularly  dibtingulshed.  Whoever  is  utll  acquainted 
with  the  Scripture  phraseology  must  allow,  that  it  not  only  admits,  but  per- 
petually requires,  such  restrictions  as  this.  See  Matt.  v.  48,  and  Clarke's 
Sermons,  vol.  ii.  p.  -lOl.  and  vcL  v.  p.  61.  Dublin  edition,  8vo.  1751. 


^96  SERMON  XXIlL 

wounding  the  authority  of  the  Scriptures  through  hiS 
sides,  have  only  shown  their  malevolence,  without  ef- 
fecting their  purpose.  Because  their  whole  reasoning 
being  founded  on  a  presumption,  that  David  was  select- 
ed by  God,  on  account  of  some  peculiar  moral  excellen- 
cy ;  this  foundation  being  withdrawn,  the  whole  super- 
structure of  cavils  and  calumnies  raised  upon  it  falls 
entirely  to  the  ground. 

Let  it  not,  however,  be  inferred  from  any  thing  here 
said,  that  king  David^s  character  ought,  by  any  means, 
to  be  viewed  in  that  odious  light  in  which  tliese  writers 
have  endeavored  to  place  it.  For  although  it  must  be 
confessed,  that  his  moral  conduct  is  far  from  being  ir- 
reproachable, yet  it  is  no  less  true,  that  (excepting  those; 
known  and  acknowledged  crimes,  \\  hich  no  one  pre-* 
tends  to  palliate  or  deny,  and  which  he  himself  deplor^ 
ed  with  the  deepest  penitence  and  contrition)  every  stain 
which  has  with  so  much  malevolent  industry  been 
thrown  upon  his  name,  may  be,  to  a  great  tlegree,  if 
not  completely,  done  away.  It  is  not  my  design  to 
enter  here  into  a  particular  confutation  of  all  the  calum^ 
nies  and  accusations  which  have  been  brought  against 
him.  It  would  not  be  suitable  to  the  nature,  or  redu- 
cible to  the  usual  bounds  of  a  discourse  of  this  kind. 
But  as  the  heaviest,  and,  indeed,  the  only  plausible 
charge,  which  has  been  urged,  not  only  against  David, 
but  the  whole  Jewish  nation,  is  that  of  cruelty,  a 
charge  which,  without  any  of  those  exaggerations  it  has 
received,  is  of  itself  apt  to  make  the  deepest  impres- 
sions on  the  honestest  minds  ;  for  these  reasons,  I  shall 
suggest  a  few  considerations  in  regard  to  this  particu-' 
lar  ;  which  may  serve  to  put  the  unwary  a  little  upon 
their  guard,  to  remove  all  unnecessary  and  invidious  ag* 
gravations,  and  account,  in  some  measure,  for  what^ 
perhaps,  can  neither  be  wholly  justified  nor  excused. 

We  who  live  in  these  enlightened  and  polished  times, 
when  our  manners  are  softened  by  the  liberal  arts,  and 
our  souls  humanized  by  the  benevolent  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity, are  shocked  beyond  measure  at  many  things, 
which,  in  the  ruder  ages  of  antiquity,   were  not  looked 


SERMON  XXIII.  297 

Upon  with  so  much  abhorrence  as  they  deserve.  We 
cannot  help  bringing  those  transactions  home  to 
ourselves,  referring  them  to  our  own  age  and  nation, 
supposing  them  to  be  done  under  the  same  advanta- 
ges which  we  at  present  enjoy,  and  consequently  as 
involving  the  same  degree  of  guilt  that  we  ourselves 
should  incur  by  the  commission  of  the  same  crimes. 
But  though  this  is  a  very  natural,  it  is  by  no  means 
an  equitable  way  of  judging.  In  deciding  on  the 
merit  or  demerit  of  any  men,  or  society  of  men,  in 
a  remote  period,  we  ought  certainly  to  take  into  con- 
sideration the  general  character  of  the  times  in  which 
they  lived,  the  peculiar  modes  of  thinking,  and  rules  of 
acting,  which  then  prevailed.  If  we  apply  this  obser- 
vation to  king  David,  we  shall  find,  that  he  lived 
in  an  age  when  the  world  was  siuik  in  ignorance  and 
barbarity  ;  when  men  were  divided  into  a  number 
of  petty  kingdoms,  and  small  communities ;  when 
they  shut  themselves  up  in  "  fenced  cities,"  and 
seldom  went  out  of  them  but  to  fight  with  their 
neighbors  ;  for  every  neighbor  was  of  course  an  ene- 
my.* Scarce  any  other  art  was  then  known  but  the 
art  of  war,  which  consisted  in  destroying  as  many  as 
they  possibly  could,  and  enslaving  the  rest.  In  such 
a  state  of  things  it  must  necessarily  follow,  that  men 
familiarized  to  blood,  and  trained  up  to  slaughter,  would 
become  insensibly  steeled  against  the  impressions  of 
humanity,  and  contract  a  habit  of  cruelty,  which  would 
give  a  tinge  to  the  whole  current  of  their  lives,  impart 
.even  to  the  face  of  peace  itself  too  sanguine  a  complex- 
ion, and  discolor  the  whole  intercourse  of  civil,  social, 
and  domestic  offices.  We  are  not  then  to  wonder, 
tliatthe  Jews  themselves  were  infected  with  this  epide- 
mical ferocity  of  manners.  We  are  not  to  charge 
tliem  with  more  than  their  share  of  the  common  guilt, 
wc  are  not  to  represent  them  as  people  distinguished 
by  their  cruelty,  but  as  constituting  a  consistent  part 
of  a  barbarous  world. 

*  The  state  of  our  own  I<'mg;Join  under  the  Saxok  heptarchy,  may,  per- 
haps, j^ive  us  some  faint  idea  ot  the  barharity  of  all  kingdoms  in  the  early 
ages  of  the  world. 

O  O 


298  SERMON  XXIII. 

It  may  be  thought,  perhaps,  that  though  this  way  of 
reasoning  is  to  be  admitted  in  general,  yet  it  has  not 
the  same  force  in  regard  to  the  Jews  as  when  appHed 
to  any  other  nation  ;  because  they  being  God's  chosen 
and  pecuhar  people,  ought  to  be  found  superior  in  be- 
nevolence, as  well  as  every  other  virtue,  to  the  rest  of 
mankind.  But  it  must  ever  be  remembered,  (what 
God  himself  frequently  declares*,)  that  it  was  not  for 
their  '*  own  sakes,"  for  their  "  own  righteousness," 
that  they  were  chosen,  but  (as  in  the  particular  case  of 
king  David  above  stated)  for  other  reasons ;  for  pre- 
serving the  knowledge,  and  promoting  the  worship,  of 
the  one  true  God  ;  for  manifesting  his  divine  power  in 
working  miracles,  and  for  executing  his  judgments  on 
those  impenitent  nations,  whose  enormous  wickedness 
was  then  ripe  for  vengeance.  The  moral  goodness 
therefore  of  the  Jews  being  no  peculiar  object  of 
God's  choice,  we  are  not  on  that  account  merely  to  ex- 
pect from  them  any  uncommon  degrees  of  virtue,  or 
any  exemption  from  the  reigning  vices  of  their  age. 

Nay,  so  little  reason  have  we  to  expect  any  extraor- 
dinary instances  of  humanity  from  the  peculiarity  of 
their  circumstances,  that  this  very  peculiarity  might, 
without  great  care  and  circumspection,  have  been  apt 
to  give  an  unfavorable  turn  to  their  disposition.  The 
distinction  bestowed  upon  them,  though  not  in  reality 
for  their  own  merit,  yet  in  preference  to  the  rest  of  the 
world,  was  not  unlikely  to  inspire  them  Vv  ith  too  high 
an  opinion  of  themselves,  and  too  contemptible  a  one 
of  others.  Their  exclusion  from  a  free  and  general 
intercourse  with  the  surrounding  nations,  (though  ab- 
solutcly  necessary  for  the  most  important  purposes) 
might,  however,  tend  to  contract  their  notions  and  con- 
fine their  benevolence.  That  extreme  abhorrence  in 
which  they  very  justly  held  the  vices  of  their  neighbors, 
might  sometimes  exceed  the  bounds  of  virtuous  indig- 
nation :  and  that  unhappy,  though  necessary,  task  im- 
posed upon  them,  of  destroying  the  sinful  nations  of 
Canaan,  might  too  easily  lead  them  to  transgress  the 
lawsofhumanity  on  less  justifiable  occasions.     If,  un- 

*  Deut.  ix.  4,  5. 


SERMON  XXIII.  299 

der  these  circumstances,  the  Jews  were  not  more  inhu- 
man than  their  neighbors,  they  certainly  deserve  some 
praise  ;  if  they  were,  there  arc,  you  see,  many  mitiga- 
ting pleas  in  their  favor ;  and  the  blame  will  not  rest, 
either  on  the  temper  of  the  people,  or  the  temper  of  their 
religion. 

It  has,  I  know,  been  frequently  asserted,  that  the  cru- 
elty of  the  Jews  exceeded  that  of  any  other  people,  not 
only  of  their  own  times,  but  in  any  age  of  the  world. 
This,  however,  has  been  much  more  confidently  ad- 
vanced than  clearly  proved.  From  what  litde  we  can 
learn  of  the  nations  cotemporary  with  the  Jews,  in 
the  early  periods  of  their  history,  there  is  not  the  least 
reason  to  imagine,  that  they  were  of  a  more  merciful 
disposition  ;  and  if  we  hear  less  of  their  cruelty,  it 
is  because  we  know  less  of  their  history*.  What 
renders  this  extremely  probable  is,  that  in  much  later 
nges,  when  the  minds  of  men  were  greatly  softened 
and  subdued  by  the  improvements  of  civil  life,  we 
meet  with  much  less  real,  though  more  ostentatious, 
humanity  than  amongst  the  Jews  ;  and  I  believe  there 
are  very  few  here,  whose  recollection  will  not  readily 
supply  tilem  with  repeated  instances  of  cruelty,  in 
the  most  flourishing  periods  of  the  most  civilized  Hea- 
thens, which  fur  surpass  any  that  can  be  produced  from 
the  most  sanguinary  transactions  of  the  Jewish  peoplef. 

Whatever  were  the  inhumanities  of  the  Israelites, 
they  had  not,  however,  that  aggravation,  with  which 

*  From  the  horrid  custom  which  we  know  prevailed  amongst  the  Canaan- 
ites  of  sacrificing  their  children  to  their  idols,  we  may  rationally  presume, 
that  the  Jews  were  mucli  outdone  in  acts  of  barbarity  by  their  neighbors. 

t  Several  acts  of  cruelty  which  have  been  ascribed  to  King  David  and 
the  Jewish  people,  appear,  on  a  more  accurate  examination,  to  have  been 
grounded  on  an  incorrect  translation  of  particular  passages  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament. Thus  it  is  said,  3  Sam.  .\ii.  31.  that  when  Rabbah  (the  capital 
city  of  the  Ammonites)  was  taken,  "  David  brought  forth  the  people  that 
"  were  therein,  and  put  them  under  saws  and  under  harrows  of  iron,  and 
"  under  axes  of  iron,  and  made  them  pass  through  the  brick-kilns."  Hence 
it  is  inferred,  that  he  put  them  to  death  with  tlae  most  e.'iquisile  and  unheard 
of  torments.  But  it  has  hecn  shown  by  several  learned  critics,  that  our 
version  of  this  place  would  have  been  more  accurate,  and  more  strictly- 
conformable  to  the  original,  if  it  had  rendered  tlie  passage  thus  :  He  put 
theiii  to  saws  and  to  hurrOws  of  iron,  and  to  axos  of  iron,  and  made  them 
pass  by  or  to  the  brick-kilns  :  that  is,  he  put  them  to  hard  labor,  with  the 
tools  and  in  the  places  here  si)e(iried.  See  Mr.  Ormciod's  Remarks  or 
Wr.  Priestley's    Disfjuisitions,  6cc.  'Jd  ed   p.  73. 


30Q  SERMON  XXIIL 

those  of  the  Pagans  were  frequently  attended,  that  of 
being  exercised  on  their  own  countrymen,  their  most 
faithful  dependents,  their  nearest  relations,  and  dearest 
friends.  The  proofs  of  their  cruelty  are  principally, 
if  not  wholly,  taken  from  their  treatment  of  the  idola- 
trous nations  around  them.  But  when  we  reflect,  that 
the  laws  of  nature,  and  the  rights  of  nations,  were  not 
then  so  clearly  ascertained  as  they  have  since  been ; 
that  wars  were  then  waged  on  savage,  unrelenting, 
exterminating  principles  ;  and  that  those  nations  which 
felt  the  weight  of  their  heaviest  vengeance,  were 
not  only  their  avowed  and  inveterate  enemies,  but 
so  incorrigible  and  abominably  flagitious*  as  to  call 
aloud  for  punishment,  of  which  the  Jews  were  only 
instruments  in  the  hand  of  the  Almighty ;  it  will  be  ea- 
sily seen,  that  such  proofs  are  by  no  means  pertinent 
and  satisfactory.  The  truth  is,  these  transient  and  ca- 
sual instances  of  cruelt}^  though  they  are  such  as  at 
first  sight  must  necessarily  strike  and  offend  us  most, 
yet  are  not  so  proper  to  determine  a  national  character, 
and  denominate  a  people  constitutionally  barbarous,  as 
those  established  wA  permanent  maxims  of  internal  and 
domestic  cruelty,  which  never  existed  in  the  Jewish 
government,  but  were  universally  received  and  prac- 
tised, were  encouraged  by  the  laws,  and  applauded  by 
the  historians,  of  those  very  nations,  who  esteemed 
and  called  all  others  in  respect  of  themselves  barba- 
rians. It  is  these,  which,  though  less  insisted  on  by 
WTiters,  and  less  attended  to  by  readers,  are  yet  more 
repugnant  to  humanity,  more  destructive  to  the  species, 
and  more  characteristic  and  decisive  evidences  of  a  ma- 
levolent spirit,  than  those  accidental  outrages  and  ex- 
cesses, on  which  historians  generally  lavish  all  the  hor- 
rors of  descriptionf. 

*  See  a  detail  of  their  execrable  vices,  Lev.  xviii. 
+  There  is  scarce  any  author,  ancient  or  modern,  wlio  has  inveighed  with 
such  indiscriminate  and  unmeasured  rancor  against  the  vvhrle  Jewish  nation, 
as  M.  Voltaire  There  are  few  of  his  latter  prose  publications  in  which  he 
has  not  introduced  this  unfortunate  people,  for  tlie  purpose  of  loading  them 
with  reproach  or  ridicule.  But  his  zeal  sometimes  outruns  his  prudence  and 
his  regard  to  truth,  and  instead  of  exciting  the  indignation  of  mankind 
against  them,  turns  it  upon  himself.  Among  numberless  instances  in  thia 
sort,  1  shall  only  single  out  one.     In  his  Dicticiunrc  Pbilosophique,  Art.  Aa^. 


SERMON  XXIII.  3ai 

I  am  aware,  indeed,  that  the  extirpation  of  the  Ca- 
naanites  was  enjoined  by  the  Mosaical  laws,  and  that 
the  Jews  were  forbid  by  no  less  than  Divine  authority 
to  show  them  any  mercy  or  compassion.  This  is  true  ; 
and  at  the  same  time  very  consistent  with  a  dispensa- 
tion in  the  main  benevolent.  For  when  we  consider 
God  in  the  light  he  should  always,  with  respect  to 
those  tirries,  be  considered  in,  not  only  as  the  common 
Governor  of  all  mankind,  but  as  the  more  immediate 
Ruler  and  Legislator  of  the  Je\^ish  nation  ;  and  as  en- 
forcing obedience  to  his  authority,  amongst  the  Jews 
in  particular,  amongst  all  nations  in  some  measure,  by 
temporal  punishments  and  rewards  ;  it  was  no  more  a 
violation  of  mercy  in  him  to  enact,  or  in  them  to  exe- 
cute, such  a  penal  law  against  the  Canaanites,  than  it 
would  be  in  a  Prince  to  punish  his  rebellious  subjects 
by  the  hands  of  his  faithful  ones,  or  in  them  to  inflict 
that  punishment.  Such  examples  of  severity  are  ne- 
cessary to  the  very  being  of  a  state,  and  serve  at  once 
to  repress  the  insolence  of  the  wicked,  and  to  secure 
the  obedience  of  the  good*. 

tbropophages ,  he  informs  us,  that  from  the  time  of  Ezekiel  the  Jews  must 
have  been  in  the  habit  of  eating  human  flesh  ;  because  that  prophet  assures 
them,  that  if  they  will  defend  themselves  courageously  against  the  King  of 
Persia,  they  shall  not  only  eat  the  horses  of  their  enemies,  but  the  horsemen 
and  the  warriors  themselves.  How  will  the  reader  be  astonished,  (if  he  is 
not  a  little  acquainted  with  the  character  and  manner  of  M.  Voltaire)  when, 
on  looking  into  Ezekiel,  he  finds,  that  the  whole  of  this  is  a  complete  fab- 
rication ;  and  that  it  is  not  the  yems,  but  the  ravenous  birds  and  the  beasts 
qf  the  field,  who,  in  the  bold  and  figurative  language  of  Prophecy,  are  called 
upon  "  to  eat  the  flesh  of  the  mighty,  and  drink  the  blood  of  the  princes 
"  of  the  earth."     Ezek.  xxxix.  4, 17, 18,  &c. 

It  is  a  great  pity  that  this  lively  writer  did  not,  for  his  own  credit,  pay  a 
little  more  regard  to  the  sage  advice  of  a  friend,  who  knew  hinn  and  his 
pratices  well,  the  late  King  of  Prussia.  That  prince  in  one  of  his  letters  to 
him,  alluding  to  accrtain  well-known  transaction  of  Voltaire's  witha  Jewish 
merchant,  which  his  majesty  calls  a  vile  business,  (and  which,  perhaps, 
might  be  one  reason  of  this  author's  imiilacable  enmity  to  the  whole  na- 
tion) says  to  him,  "  I  hope  you  will  have  no  more  quarrels  either  with  the 
•'  Old  Testament  or  the  New.  Such  contests  are  dishonorable  :  and  though 
•'  possessed  of  more  genius  than  any  man  in  France,  you  cannot  avoid  ii- 
"  nally  injuring  your  reputation  by  the  disgrace  of  such  conduct."  Postbu' 
inous  Works  of  Fred.  II.  vol.  vii.  lett.  245,  p.  40'2, 

The  Jews,  however,  have  met  with  a  very  able  and  eloquent  defender  in 
the  author  of  Lettres  de  queh/ues  jfuifs,  Portiigais,  8c  Alleinands,  a  M.  de 
Voltaire.     Paris,  1769 — See  also  Div.  Leg.  vol.  iv.  b.  5.  s.  1.  p    139. 

•  The  absolute  necessity  of  extirpating  the  Canaanites,  or  at  least  destroy- 
ing their  national  polity  ;  the  peculiar  propriety  of  doing  this  by  the  sword  of 


302  SERMON  XXIII. 

If  this  exception  be,  as  it  certainly  ought  to  be,  ad- 
mitted, and  if  we  make  such  other  equitable  allow- 
ances, as  the  state  of  Religion  and  the  state  of  Societ}^ 
at  that,  time,  do  necessarily  require  ;  the  Mosaical  law 
will,  I  am  persuaded,  appear  infinitely  superior,  in  point 
of  humanity,  to  all  the  institutions  of  the  most  cele- 
brated lawgivers  of  antiquity.  It  abounds  with  in- 
junctions of  mercy  and  pity,  not  only  to  Jews,  but  to 
strangers,  to  enemies,  and  even  to  those  who  had 
most  cruelly  and  injuriously  oppressed  them.  "  If 
"  thy  brother  be  waxen  poor  and  fallen  in  decay  with 
*'  thee;  then  thou  shalt  relieve  him  ;  yea,  though  he 
"  be  a  stranger  or  a  sojourner,  that  he  may  live  with 
"  thee.  Take  thou  no  usury  of  him,  or  increase  ;  but 
*'  fear  thy  God,  tluit  thy  brother  may  live  with  thee. 
"  Thou  shalt  not  oppress  a  stranger.  Tnou  shalt  love 
"  him  as  tliyself.  Thou  shalt  not  abhor  an  Edomite  : 
"  thou  shalt  not  abhor  an  ^Egyptian.  If  thou  meet 
*'  thine  enemy's  ox  or  his  ass  going  astray,  thou  shalt 
*'  surely  bring  it  back  to  him."  The  dispositions  in 
favor  of  the  poor  are  truly  singular  and  amiable. 
*'  Thou  shalt  not  harden  thy  heart,  nor  shut  thy  hand 
"  from  thy  poor  brother  ;  but  thou  shalt  open  thy 
"  hand  wide  unto  him  ;  and  shall  surely  lend  him  suf- 
"  ficient  for  his  need.  When  ye  reap  the  harvest  of 
"  your  land,  thou  shalt  not  wholly  reap  the  corners  cf 
*'  thy  field  ;  neither  shalt  thou  gather  the  gleanings  of 
"thy  harvest;  and  if  thou  have  forgot  a  sheaf  in  the 
'^'  field,  tliou  shalt  not  go  again  to  fetch  it  ;  and  when 
"  thou  beatest  thine  olive-tree,  thou  shalt  not  go  over 
*'  the  boughs  again  ;  when  thou  gatiierest  the  grapes 
*'  of  thy  vineyard,  thou  shalt  not  glean  it  afterwards  ; 
"  it  shall  be  for  the  stranger,  the  fatherless,  and  the 
*'  widow*."     The  provisions  made  for  the  security 

the  Jews  ;  the  great  and  benevolent  purposes  that  were  answered  by  their 
separation  from  the  v/orld  ;  the  advantages  that  nil  other  nations  derived 
from  it  ;  and  many  other  particulars  of  the  divine  economy  with  regard  to 
this  extraordinary  people  ;  see  clearly  and  ably  explained  in  Bishop  Law's 
Considerations  on  the  Theory,  of  Religio.i,  fro:n  p.  82,  to  ]).  98,  3d  edit. 

Vide  finder's  Analogy,  part  ii.  ch.  3.  p.  267.  4th  edit.  IToO. 

*  Lev.  -Yxv.  35,  3d.  Ex.  xxiii.  9.  Lev.  xix.  3 1.  DeiU.  xxiii.  7 .  Ex.  xxiii.  4. 
Deut.  XV.  Tj  8.  Lev.  xix.  9,  10.  Deur.  x>iiv'.  19. 


SERMON  XXIII.  303 

and  comfort  of  that  most  useful,  though  too  often  most 
UTetched,  pnrt  of  the  species,  slaves  and  servants,  are 
entirely  worthy  of  a  law  that  came  down  from  Heaven. 
That  absolute  and  unlimited  power  over  the  lives  of 
slaves  indulged  to  their  tyrannical  masters  by  almost  all 
Heathen  lawgivers,  a  i)o\ver  most  scandalously  abused 
to  the  disgrace  of  all  humanity,  w-as  cffectualv  restrained 
by  the  Jewish  law,  which  punished  tlic  murder  of  a 
slave  with  the  utmost  rigor*.  The  kindness  enjoin- 
ed towards  hired  servants  is  most  remarkable.  "  Thou 
*'  shalt  not  oppress  a  hired  servant  that  is  poor  and 
*' needy  ;  whether  he  be  of  thy  brethren  or  of  thy 
**  strangers  that  are  in  the  land  within  thy  gates.  At 
"  his  day  thou  shalt  give  him  his  hire  ;  neither  shall 
*'  the  sun  go  down  upon  it  ;  for  he  is  poor  and  set- 
"  teth  his  heart  upon  itf  Thou  shalt  not  rule  over 
"  thy  brother  with  rigor  J."  The  injunctions  res- 
pecting Hebrew  slaves  were  no  less  merciful.  *'  If 
*''thy  brother,  a  Hebrew  man,  or  a  Hebrew  woman, 
*'  be  sold  unto  thee,  and  serve  thee  six  years,  in  the 
*'  seventh  year  thou  shalt  let  him  go  free  from  thee  ; 
*'  and  thou  shalt  not  let  him  go  away  empty  ;  but  thou 
"  shalt  furnish  him  liberally  out  of  thy  flock,  and  out 
*'  of  thy  floor,  and  out  of  thy  wine  press  :  and  of  that 
**  wherewith  the  Lord  thy  God  hath  blessed  thee,  thou 
*' shalt  give  unto  himj|."  It  should  seem  also,  as  if 
all  other  bondmen  or  slaves  (even  those  that  were  cap- 
tured in  Avar  or  brought  from  the  neighboring  Heathen 
nations)  A\ere  to  be  emancipated  in  the  year  of  the 
Jubilee;  that  is,  every  fifdeth  year:  for  it  is  said  imiver- 
sally,  "  Yc  shall  hallow  the  fiftieth  year,  and  proclaim 
*'  liberty  throughout  all  the  land,  to  all  the  inhabitants 
*'  thereof^."  The  utmost  care,  in  short,  is  taken 
throughout  to  guard  against  every   species  of  tyranny 

•  Ex.  XX i.  20.         t  Deut.  xxiv  14.  15.         \  Lev.  x.w.  43. 

1}  Deut.  XV.  12,  1.1.  Other  instances  of  this  humanity  in  the  Jewish  law, 
may  be  seen  in  Dc.it.  x::ii.  6.  8.  xxiv.  5,  6,  12, 13,  to  the  end.  Rosseau  him- 
atlf  {Kinii'e,  lib.  5.  p.  6.)  commends  the  benevolent  spirit  of  the  law  men- 
tioned Ex.  xxii.  26,  27.  See  also  on  this  point  the  ancient  part  of  the 
Universal  Ilistory>  vol.  iii.  8vo,  p.  136,  note  b.  and  p.  152. 

<f  Lev.  XXX.  h>. 


304  SERMON  XXIIL 

and  oppression,  and  to  protect  the  helpless  and  weak 
from  the  wanton  insolence  of  prosperity  and  power. 
The  tenderness  of  the  divine  legislature  thought  no 
creature  below  its  notice  ;  and  extended  itself  to  the 
minutest  articles  of  social  and  domestic  life,  which, 
though  unnoticed  by  less  benevolent  lawgivers,  do,  in 
fact,  constitute  a  very  great  and  essential  part  of  human 
happiness  and  misery. 

With  such  heavenly  institutions  as  these  (which  we 
shall  in  vain  look  for  in  any  Pagan  government)  is  eve- 
ry page  of  the  Jewish  law  replete.  It  is  from  these  we 
are  to  form  our  judgment  of  the  Jews,  of  their  Religion, 
and  its  Divine  Author*  ;  and  if  these  had  their  proper 
effect  on  the  manners  of  the  people,  they  must  have 
produced  upon  the  whole  a  constant  and  habitual 
(though,  perhaps,  from  the  very  nature  of  their  situa- 
tion, a  confined)  benevolence,  much  superior,  not 
only  to  that  of  their  rude  cotemporaries,  but  to  the 
boasted  lenity  of  much  later  and  more  polished  na- 
tions. 

It  will  be  readily  understood,  that  every  thing  wliich 
has  been  here  said  to  vindicate  the  Jewish  nation  in 
general  from  the  charge  of  disthigu'ished  cruelty^  is  ap- 
plicable to  King  David  in  particular.  But  he  may  also 
lay  claim  to  some  peculiar  indulgence  from  the  singu- 
larity of  his  own  circumstances,  which  were  frequently 
very  unfavorable  to  humanity.  It  was  his  fortune  to 
pass  through  almost  every  scene  of  life,  and  to  meet 
with  almost  every  incident  in  his  way,  that  could  be 
injurious  to  his  temper,  or  give  an  edge  to  his  resent- 
ments. Extremes  of  happiness  or  misery,  sudden 
transitions  from  the  one  to  the  other,  the  persecutions 
of  enemies,  and  the  unkindness  of  friends,  are  cir- 

*  A  consideration  of  the  general  temper  and  disposition  of  law  will  be 
found  of  great  advantage  to  civil  life  ;  and  will  supply  us  with  very  useful 
theory.  It  is  reaching  the  heart  in  the  first  instance,  and  making  ourselves 
masters  of  the  genius  of  a  whole  people  at  once,  by  reading  them  in  that 
glass  virhich  represents  thein  best,  the  turn  of  their  civil  institutions.  There 
is  scarce  a  passage  in  all  antiquity  more  happily  imagined,  than  that  where 
Demosthenes  tells  us,  that  the  laws  of  a  country  were  considered  as  the  mo- 
rals of  a  state,  and  the  cliaracter  of  a'whole  people  taken  collectively.  Hr. 
Taylor's  Elcvicnt^  (>f  Civil  Lai",  3tl  edit.  p.  160. 


SERMON  XXIir.  505 

Gumstanccs  which  seldom  fail  of  hurting  the  mind,  and 
vitiating  the  most  benevolent  disposition.  All  these 
did  David  experience  in  quick  succession,  and  in  their 
fullest  extent. 

He  was  originally  nothing  more  than  a  shepherd  ; 
and  at  a  time  when  his  youth  and  inexperience  seemed 
to  disqualify  him  for  any  more  important  business  than 
that  of  feeding  a  flock,  he  broke  out  at  once  die  cham- 
pion and  preserver  of  his  country.  Transplanted  on  a 
sudden  from  a  cottage  to  a  court,  he  experienced  al- 
ternately the  smiles  and  the  frowns  of  a  capricious  mo- 
narch ;  was  sometimes  flattered  with  the  hope  of  being 
united  to  him  by  the  closest  bonds  of  aflinity,  and 
sometimes  in  danger  of  being  struck  by  him  with  a 
javelin  to  the  wail.  Driven  at  length  from  his  pre- 
sence, and  torn  from  the  arms  of  those  he  loved,  *'  his 
**  soul  was  hunted  from  city  to  city  ;"  and  after  suf- 
fering the  last  distresses  of  human  nature,  he  was  not 
only  restored  to  the  honors  he  had  lost,  but  seated  on 
the  throne  of  Israel.  And  here,  though  surrounded  with 
all  the  pleasures  and  magnificence  of  an  Eastern  mo- 
narch, yet  was  he  at  the  same  time  not  only  harassed 
with  the  common  uneasinesses  of  life,  and  the  cares  in- 
separable from  royalty,  but  experienced  a  succession  of 
the  bitterest  sufferings  and  the  heaviest  domestic  cala- 
mities ;  was  once  more  driven  from  Jerusalem,  deserted 
by  his  friends,  cursed  by  his  enemies,  and  persecuted 
by  his  darling  son  ;  whose  death  did  indeed  put  a  peri- 
od to  his  public  calamities,  but  plunged  him  in  the 
deepest  affliction,  and  was  very  near  bringing  down 
his  grey  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave. 

When  to  these  private  considerations  we  add  those 
more  general  ones  above-mentioned,  we  can  hardly  be 
surprized  at  any  excesses  of  severity  that  King  David 
occasionally  gave  way  to.  We  shall  rather  be  surpri- 
zed to  find,  in  so  tumultuous  and  military  a  kind  of 
life,  many  striking  instances  of  humanity,  many  amia- 
ble tendernesses,  many  uncommon  and  heroical  exer- 
tions of  generosity,  which  j)lainly  indicated  a  temper 
constitutionally  good  and   rieht,  but   laboring    under 


306  SERMON  XXIIL 

the  weight  of  numberless  disad\'r.ntages,  which  some- 
times dragged  it  from  its  true  bias,  and  forced  it  to  take 
a  turn  directly  opposite  to  its  natural  bent.  His  cir- 
cumstances exposed  him  to  a  variety  of  injuries  and  in- 
sults ;  the  liveliness  of  his  sensations  made  him  feel 
them,  the  impetuosity  of  his  passions  made  him  resent 
them,  too  strongly.  And  yet,  though  every  thing 
thus  concurred  to  stimulate  his  revenge,  though  the 
guilt  of  indulging  it  was  not  then  so  apparent  and  so 
acknowledged  as  it  now  is,  yet  did  he,  on  one  memo- 
rable occasion,  resist  the  strongest  impulses  of  this 
importunate  and  ungovernable  passion,  though  tempted 
to  gratify  it  by  the  most  inviting  opportunity  on  his  in- 
veterate enemy,  whose  past  conduct  would  almost  have 
justified  any  extremity  ;  and  whose  removal  would  not 
only  have  put  an  immediate  end  to  his  distresses,  but, 
in  all  appearance,  opened  his  way  to  the  attainment  of 
his  utmost  wishes,  and  raised  him  at  once  from  an  ex- 
ile to  a  king*. 

It  is  but  justice  also  to  add,  that  this  prince  had  a  sen- 
sibility of  soul,  which,  though  it  gave  too  keen  an 
edge  both  to  his  relish  of  pleasure  and  his  resentment 
of  injury,  yet  gave  at  the  same  time  an  uncommon  fer- 
vor to  his  repentance,  a  peculiar  vigor  and  vivacity  to 
all  his  virtues  ;  rendered  him  most  feelingly  alive  to  the 
noblest  and  the  tenderest  sentiments ;  and  inspired  him 
with  every  liberal  and  social  affection  that  can  warm 
the  human  breast.  "O  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son," 
are  words  that  will  go  to  every  parent's  heart  that  has 
experienced  the  same  misfortune,  and  speak  to  it  with 
a  force  and  eloquence  that  has  never  yet  been  equalled. 
He  had,  moreover,  as  his  inimitable  writings  abundant- 
ly testify,  a  most  ardent  spirit  of  devotion,  and  a  bound- 
less zeal  for  the  honor  of  God  and  the  interests  of  his 
Religion  ;  and  the  general  tenor  of  his  conduct,  when 
left  to  its  own  natural  course,  very  clearly  evinced,  that 
he  was,  upon  the  whole,  a  conscious  observer  and  a 
strenuous  asserter  of  the  Divine  laws,  a  most  disinter- 

*  1  Sam.  xxiv.     Vide  Peters  on  Job,  p.  352. 


SERMON  XXIIL  307 

csted  and  active  patriot,  the  tende/est  of  parents,  and 
the  most  affectionate  of  friends. 

At  the  same  time,  however,  that  we  do  justice  to  the 
virtues  of  King  David,  we  must  acknowledge  and  la- 
ment his  faults,  which  were  undoubtedly  great,  and  in 
one  flagrant  instance  more  especially,  justly  subject  him 
to  the  severest  reproach.  But  while  we  censure  him 
on  this  account,  as  he  deserves,  it  will  be  our  wisdom 
to  look  w^ell  also  to  ourselves.  To  the  Infidel  it  is  mat- 
ter of  unspeakable  triumph,  that  the  man  after  God's 
own  heart  should  have  been  betrayed  into  such  (head- 
ful  crimes.  But  to  the  Christian  it  must  be  a  subject 
of  most  serious  concern  and  alarm,  to  observe  so  stri- 
king aproof  of  the  frailty  and  weakness  of  human  nature, 
even  when  strengthened  by  mature  years,  and  confirm- 
ed by  early  habits  of  virtue  and  religion.  It  holds  out 
to  him  a  most  awful  lesson,  how  indispensably  neces- 
sary it  is,  even  for  men  of  the  best  dispositions  and 
most  exalted  piety,  to  keep  their  hearts  with  all  dili- 
gence ;  to  watch  and  to  guard  those  passions,  which 
they  feel  most  predominant  in  their  souls,  with  unre- 
mitting vigilance,  to  the  latest  period  of  their  lives  ; 
and  to  apply  most  fervently  and  frequently  for  that  help 
from  above,  which  is  promised  in  the  Gospel  to  every 
sincere  believer,  and  without  w-hich  our  utmost  efforts 
and  our  firmest  resolutions  will,  in  some  unguarded  and 
unsuspected  moment,  give  way  to  the  impetuosity  of 
passion,  and  we  shall  be  unexpectedly  plunged  into  an 
abyss  of  guilt  and  misery. 

But,  above  all  things,  let  us  beware  o£ per-verting  the 
example  of  David  to  our  own  ruin,  and  of  considering 
his  deviations  from  duty,  not  as  they  truly  are,  a  warn- 
ing to  us  against  danger,  but  as  an  encouragement  to 
lis  to  tread  in  the  same  unhallowed  paths  of  vice.  Let 
us  not  flatter  ourselves,  that  because  he,  so  devout,  so 
religious,  so  distinguished  by  the  favor  of  Heaven,  was 
once  most  fatally  seduced  into  sin,  that  we  may  there- 
fore commit  the  same  or  similar  crimes  with  impunity. 
On  the  contrary,  if  these  crimes  appear  so  odious  and 
detestable,  even  in   a  Jewish  monarch,  who  had   to 


"308  SERMON  XXIII. 

plead  in  his  excuse  (though  all  excuse  was  vain)  the 
temptations  of  a  court,  the  manners  of  the  times,  the 
peculiarity  of  his  own  circumstances,  and  the  liberties 
too  often  taken  by  men  in  his  situation  ;  they  must  as- 
sume a  much  more  frightful  aspect  in  a  private  Chris- 
tian, who  has  none  of  those  mitigating  pleas  to  offer, 
who  lives  in  much  more  enlightened  and  civilized  times, 
has  much  stricter  rules  of  moral  conduct  presented  to 
him  in  the  Gospel,  is  called  to  a  much  higher  degree  of 
purity  and  holiness,  has  far  more  powerful  aid  from 
Heaven  to  support  him  in  his  duty,  more  terrible  pun- 
ishments to  work  upon  his  fears,  and  more  glorious 
rewards  to  animate  his  hopes. 

Let  it  be  remembered  too,  that  the  offences  of  Da- 
vid were  by  no  means  passed  over  with  impunity  ;  that 
he  was  severely  punished  for  them  by  the  remorse  of 
his  own  conscience,  by  the  deep  affliction  into  which 
they  plunged  him,  by  the  wretched  consequences  they 
drew  after  them,  and  by  the  heavy  and  positive  penalties 
denounced  and  inflicted  upon  him  by  God  himself. 

Hear  how  the  repenting  monarch  bemoans  himself 
in  the  anguish  of  his  soul,  and  then  say,  whether  his 
situation  was  an  enviable  one  ;   whether  you  would 
chuse  to  imitate  his  misconduct,  and  take  the  conse- 
quences. 

*'  Have  mercy  upon  me,  O  God,  after  thy  great 
"  goodness,  according  to  the  multitude  of  thy  mer- 
*'  cies  do  away  mine  offences.  Wash  me  thorough- 
*'  ly  from  my  wickedness,  and  cleanse  me  from  my 
*'  sin  ;  for  I  acknowledge  my  fault,  and  my  sin  is  ever 
"  before  me.  Make  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God,  and 
*'  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me.  Cast  me  not  away 
"  from  thy  presence,  and  take  not  thy  Holy  Spirit 
^'  from  me.  Thy  rebuke  hath  broken  my  heart,  I  am 
*'  full  of  heaviness  ;  I  looked  for  some  to  have  pity  on 
"  me,  but  there  was  no  man,  neither  found  I  any  to 
*'  comfort  me.  My  God,  my  God,  look  upon  me  : 
"  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me,  and  art  so  far  from  my 
*'  health  and  the  words  of  my  complaint.  I  cry  in  the 
"  day-time,  and  thou  hearest  not ;  and  in  the  night- 


SERMON  XXIII.  ^00 

«*  season  also  I  take  no  rest.  Turn  thee  unto  me,  and 
*'  have  mercy  upon  me,  for  I  am  desolate  and  in  mise- 
"  ry.  The  sorrows  of  my  heart  arc  enlarged,  O  bring 
*'  thou  me  out  of  my  troubles.  Look  upon  my  adver- 
*^  sity  and  misery,  and  forgive  me  all  my  sin.  Thine 
*'  arrows  stick  fast  in  mc,  and  thy  hand  prcsseth  me 
"  sore  :  for  my  wickednesses  are  gone  over  my  head, 
**■  and  are  like  a  sore  burthen,  too  heavy  for  me  to 
*'  bear.  I  am  brought  into  so  great  trouble  and  mise- 
*'  ry,  that  I  go  mourning  all  the  day  long.  My  heart 
*'  panteth,  my  strength  faileth,  and  the  sight  of  mine 
'*  eyes  is  gone  from  me*." 

It  is  hardly  in  the  power  of  language  to  express 
greater  agony  of  mind  than  this ;  and  no  one,  surely, 
that  reads  these  passages  can  wish  to  undergo  the  mi- 
sery there  described.  It  is  impossible  for  him,  if  he  is 
of  a  sound  mind,  to  make  so  wretched  a  bargain  for 
himself,  as  to  plunge  voluntarily  into  the  crimes  of  the 
royal  penitent,  that  he  may  afterwards  taste  the  bitter 
fruits  of  his  contrition  and  remorse  ;  or,  (what  is  still 
worse,  and  what  no  sinner  can  be  secure  against)  that 
he  may  die  without  repenting  at  all,  and  rush  into  the 
unceasing  torments  of  "  a  worm  that  never  dies,  and 
*'  a  fire  that  is  never  quenched." 

*  Ps.  li.  Ixix.  XXV.  xxxvin.  &c.  5;c. 


CQE 


SERMON  XXIV. 


James  i.  27. 

Pure  religion^  and  undefiled  before  God  caid  the  Father,  is  this .,  to 
visit  the  Jatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keeji 
himself  unspotted  from  the  world. 

IT  should  seem  as  if  Religion  was  here  made  to  con- 
sist only  of  two  parts;  Charity  or  Benevo- 
lENCE  respecting  others,  and  Purjty  or  Self-Go- 
VERNMENT  respecting  ourselvcs.  The  first  of  these, 
Benevolence,  is  characterized  to  us  by  singling  out 
one  of  the  strongest  of  our  social  affections,  compas- 
sion towards  the  distressed,  which,  in  the  beautiful  lan- 
guage of  Scripture,  is  called  'visiting,  that  is,  relieving 
*'  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction  ;"  a 
mode  of  expression  very  common  to  the  sacred  wri- 
ters ;  especially  when  they  are  describing  the  virtue 
of  Charity,  which  is  almost  constantly  represented  by 
one  or  other  of  its  most  striking  features. 

The  other  part  of  Religion,  here  specified  Self- Gov- 
ernment, is  very  distinctly  marked  out  by  the  phrase 
of  "keeping  himself  unspotted  from  the  world  ;" 
which  plainly  means  a  total  abstinence  from  the  immo- 
ral practices  and  unlawful  pleasures  of  the  world  ;  a 
strict  command  over  our  irregular  appetites  and  pas- 
sions ;  an  abhorrence  of  every  thing  that  tends  to  de- 
base our  nature,  and  contaminate  our  souls. 

But  it  must  immediately  occur  to  every  one,  that, 
besides  the  two  branches  of  Religion  here  enumera- 
ted, there  is  a  third,  of  which  St.  James  takes  no  notice. 


SERMON  XXIV.  311 

• 
And  it  may  appear,  at  first  sight,  a  little  extraordinary, 
that  an  Apostle  of  Christ,  w  hen  he  seems  to  be  giving 
a  formal  definition  of  his  Master's  Religion,  should 
omit  what  has  ever  been  esteemed  a  most  essential  part 
of  it.  Piety  ^  OT  the  lon^e  of  God.  But,  although  this  du- 
ty is  not  expressly  mentioned,  yet  it  is  evidently  im- 
plied, in  the  text,  which  reeommends  such  Religion 
only  as  terminates  ultimately  in  God,  such  as  is  pure 
and  undefiled  "  before  God  and  the  Father."  And 
the  reason  why  St.  James  did  not  more  particularly 
insist  on  this  point  was,  because  he  had  no  occasion 
to  press  it  on  the  persons  to  A\hom  he  was  writing. 
That  acts  of  piety  were  necessary,  they  readily  owned  ; 
but  they  were  too  apt,  it  seems,  to  think,  that  scarce 
any  thing  else  was  necessary  ;  and  that,  provided  they 
were  punctual  and  exact  in  their  devotional  exercises, 
they  might  be  allowed  to  relax  a  litde  in  the  govern- 
ment of  their  passions,  and  the  duties  owing  to  their 
neighbor.  St.  James,  therefore,  pointing  the  whole  force 
of  his  admonition  against  this  dangerous  error,  and  pas- 
sing over  those  religious  observances,  on  which  they 
were  already  disposed  to  pique  themselves  too  much, 
reminds  them  in  the  text,  that  although  God  was  in- 
deed to  be  worshipped,  yet  it  was  to  be  not  only  with 
their  lips,  but  in  their  lives  ;  that  Religion,  that  even 
Devotion  itself,  did  not  consist  merely  in  calling  up- 
on God's  name,  but  in  obeying  his  laws  ;  in  acts  of 
kindness  to  their  fellow:- creatures,  and  an  unspotted 
sanctity  of  manners. 

Let  no  one,  therefore,  infer,  what  some  have  been 
too  willing  to  infer,  from  the  passage  before  us,  that  an 
inoffensive,  beneficent,  and  tolerably  good  moral  life, 
is  the  whole  of  Religion  ;  and  that  the  love  of  God  con- 
stitutes no  part  of  our  duty.  It  is,  on  the  contrary, 
our  principal  and  most  important  duty,  or,  as  the  Scrip- 
tures express  it,  the  first  and  great  co7nmandmcnt. 
And  as,  without  Piety,  there  can  be  no  Religion,  so 
w  ithout  belief  in  the  Son  of  God,  there  can  be  evi- 
dently no  Christianity.  Unless  our  virtue  is  built  on 
this  foundation,  unless  it  be  grounded  on  true  cvange 


S12  SERMON  XXIV* 

Jical  principles,  it  may  be  very  good  Pagan  morality, 
but  it  is  not  Christian  godliness.  And  M^hatever  other 
rewards  it  may  be  entitled  to,  it  can  have  no  claim  to 
that  eternal  one,  which  is  not  a  matter  of  right,  strictly 
due  to  our  services,  but  the  free  gift  of  God  to  those 
only  that  embrace  the  offers  of  salvation  made  to  them 
in  the  Gospel,  on  the  conditions  of  a  right  faith,  as 
well  as  of  a  right  conduct*  Yet  it  has  become  of  late 
but  too  common,  not  only  to  treat  the  peculiar  doc- 
trines of  Christianity  with  contempt,  and  to  set  up 
practical  morality  as  the  sum  and  substance  of  all  reli- 
gion ;  but  what  is  still  more  extraordinary,  men  have 
frequently  thought,  or  pretended  to  think,  that  even 
morality  itself  was  not  necessary  in  all  its  extent ;  and 
that  of  the  two  duties  mentioned  in  the  text,  CnARixt 
and  Self-Government,  it  was  fully  sufficient  to  cul- 
tivate that  which  best  suited  their  own  constitutions  or 
inclinations.  Accordingly,  they  have  very  seldom  paid 
a  due  regard  to  both  these  at  the  same  time  ;  but  slight* 
ing  each  of  them  in  their  turn,  haye  persuaded  them- 
selves, that  the  observance  of  the  one  would  atone  for 
the  neglect  or  violation  of  the  other. 

These  assertions  might  very  easil}'^  be  proved  by 
facts ;  and  it  would  be  no  unpleasing,  nor  perhaps  un* 
profitable  speculation,  to  trace  the  various  revolutions 
that  have  happened  in  the  opinion  and  the  practice  of 
mankind  with  regard  to  these  two  Christian  virtues.  But 
it  is  sufficient  for  my  present  purpose  to  observe,  that 
as  the  distinguishing  character  of  our  forefathers  in  the 
last  age  was  preciseness  and  severity  of  manners ;  Me, 
their  descendants,  on  the  contrary,  have  taken  up  Be- 
nevolence for  ou?'  favorite  virtue  :  and  that  the  same 
vigor  of  mind,  and  national  vehemence  of  temper, 
which  carried  them  such  remarkable  lengths  in  the 
rugged  paths  of  moral  discipline,  has  with  us  taken  a 
different  direction,  and  a  gayer  look  ;  is  stirring  up  all 
the  humane  and  tender  affections  within  our  souls,  and 
urging  us  on  to  the  noblest  exertions  of  generosity  and 
beneficence. 


SERMON  XXIV.  3  IS 

For  to  our  praise  it  must  be  owned,  that  it  will  not 
be  easy  to  fijicl  any  age  or  nation  in  which  both  private 
and  public  benevolence  was  ever  carried  to  so  high  a 
pitch,  or  distributed  in  so  many  different  channels,  as 
it  is  amongst  ourselves  at  this  day.  Numerous  as  the 
evils  are  to  which  man  is  naturally  subject,  and  indus- 
trious as  he  is  in  creating  others  by  his  own  follies  and 
indiscretions,  modern  charity  is  still  equal  and  present 
to  them  all,  and  accommodates  itself  to  the  many  vari- 
ous shapes  in  which  human  misery  appears.  It  feeds 
the  hungry,  clothes  the  naked,  visits  the  sick,  protects 
the  widow,  relieves  the  stranger,  educates  the  orphan, 
instructs  the  ignorant,  reclaims  the  sinner,  receives  the 
penitent.  So  far,  then,  you  have  done  well ;  you  have 
discharged,  perhaps,  one  branch  of  your  duty,  but  how 
have  you  performed  the  others  ?  What  regard,  more 
espec'.ally,  have  you  paid  to  that  virtue  which  is  linked 
with  charity  in  the  very  words  of  the  text  ?  Whilst  you 
*'  visit  the  fatherlessand  widows  in  their  affliction,  do  you 
"  keep  yourselves  unspotted  from  the  world  ?"  Are  you 
plain  and  simple  in  your  diet  and  your  attire  ?  Are  you 
sober,  chaste,  and  m.odest  ?  Are  you  temperate  in  your 
pleasures,  and  discreet  in  your  amusements  ?  Do  you 
mingle  solitude  and  reflection  with  business  and  with 
society  ?  Do  you  bridle  your  tongues,  and  moderate 
your  desires  ?  Do  you  keep  your  bodies  under  and 
bring  them  into  subjection  ?  Do  you  crucify  the  flesh 
with  all  its  aflTections  and  lusts  ?  Do  you  carefully  avoid 
every  thing  that  may  inflame  and  stimulate  your  pas- 
sions ?  Are  you,  in  short,  as  rigorous  to  yourselves  as 
you  are  benevolent  to  others  ?  If  to  these  questions 
your  consciences  can  answer,  with  truth,  in  the  affirma- 
tive ;  and  if  to  all  this  you  have  added  the  sincerest 
sentiments  of  love  and  gratitude  to  your  Maker,  your 
Redeemer,  your  Sanciifier,  then,  indeed,  you  have 
been  good  and  faithful  servants  to  your  heavenly  Mas- 
ter ;  then  may  you  safely  call  yourselves  disciples  of 
Christ  ;  and  with  humble  reliance  on  his  merits,  not 
your  own,  may  expect  to  enter  into  the  joy  of  your 
Lord. 

Qq 


iU  SERMON  XXIV. 

But  if,  on  the  contrary,  there  are  but  too  evideiiC 
marks  among  certain  classes  of  men  of  an  inextinguish- 
able thirst  for  pleasure  and  amusement,  and  those  toa 
not  always  of  the  most  innocent  and  reputable  nature  ; 
if  luxury  not  only  prevails  as  a  fashion,  but  is  studied 
as  a  science  ;  if  charity  is  in  some  persons  nothing 
more  than  a  cloak  for  voluptuousness  ;  if  benevolence 
is  industriously  and  ofiiciously,  I  had  almost  said  in- 
vidiously, cried  up,  and  magnified  as  the  only  duty  of 
a  man,  nay,  even  of  a  Christian  ;  whilst  purity  is  ridi- 
culed and  set  at  nought,  as  a  sour,  unsocial,  unhumani- 
zed  virtue  ;  is  called  austerity,  preciseness,  puritanism, 
or  any  thing  but  what  it  really  is ;  if  the  natural  conse- 
quences of  this  licentious  doctrine  are  but  too  visible 
in  that  rapid  growth  of  dissoluteness  anjongst  us,  which 
seems  to  threaten  the  extinction  of  every  moral  and  re- 
ligious principle  ;  if,  in  fine,  the  grossest  violations  of 
decency,  nay,  even  of  connubial  fidelity,  are  often 
treated  with  levity  and  gaiety,  as  subjects  rather  of 
pleasantry  than  of  reproach  ;  and  are  not  only  commit- 
ted without  scruple  but  avowed,  and  sometimes  defen- 
ded too,  without  a  blush  ;  if  this  be  a  faithful  portrait 
of  our  manners,  what  infinite  cause  have  we,  amidst 
all  our  boasted  charities,  to  tremble  at  the  danger  of  our 
situation  I  It  is  incredible,  k  is  impossible,  that  the 
righteous  Governor  of  the  Universe  can  be  an  uncon- 
cerned spectator  of  such  wickedness  as  this  ! 

But  is  our  Benevolence  then  you  will  say,  of  no 
avail  ?  Will  not  that  shelter  us  from  punishment  ?  For 
charity,  we  are  told,  *'shall  coverthe  multitude  of  sins*:" 
and,  accordingly,  we  take  effectual  care  that  it  shall 
have  a  multitude  to  cover.  But  whose  sins  does  St. 
Peter  say  that  charity  shall  cover  ?  Our  own,  or  those 
of  others  ?  He  may  only  mean,  that  a  charitable  man 
"will  not  wantonly  dhu/ge,  but  will  coDer,  w ill  throw  a 
veil  over,  the  failings  of  his  neighbor.  But  supposing, 
what  is  most  probable,  that  our  own  sins  are  meant, 
what  sort  of  sins  do  you  think  that  charity  shall  cover  ? 
Not,  surely,  those  gross,  presumptuous  habitual  ones,. 

•  1  Pet  iv.  8. 


SERMON  XXIV.  315 

which  we  would  gladly  shelter  under  it ;  but  those  ca- 
sual slips  and  inadvertencies,  those  almost  unavoidable 
errors,  weaknesses,  and  imperfections,  to  which  the 
very  best  of  men  are  subject,  and  which  are  almost 
the  only  sin^>  that  a  truly  charitable  man  can  have  to 
cover.  For  what  is  this  charity,  at  last,  of  which  such 
great  things  are  said  in  Scripture  ?  Read  over  that  well- 
known,  and  most  eloquent  description  of  it  by  St. 
Paul,  and  you  w  ill  f^nd  it  to  be  something  very  differ- 
ent from  that  false  inuige  of  it  which  the  philosophy  of 
this  world  has  set  up  to  worship.  From  thence,  from 
the  whole  tenor  of  Scripture  you  will  find  it  to  be  not 
merely  an  easay,  undistinguishing  good  nature,  or  a 
thoughdess,  profuse,  pernicious  liberality  ;  but  an  in- 
ward principle  of  universal  kind  affection,  founded  in 
nature,  improved  by  reason,  and  perfected  by  grace ; 
restraining  us,  in  the  first  place,  from  doing  harm  ; 
then  projTipting  us,  on  every  occasion,  and  towards 
^very  person,  to  do  all  the  good  we  possibly  can.  This 
is  the  oiily  charity  thvit  the  Gospel  is  acquainted  with ; 
the  only  one,  that  in  conjunction  with  repentance,  and 
iaidi  in  our  Redeemer,  can  in  the  least  contribute  to 
obtain  pardon  for  our  failings  and  render  us  meet  to 
be  partakers  of  the  kingdom  of  Heaven. 

In  \\  hatever  sense,  then,  we  understand  the  expres- 
sion o^ charity  co-verhig  our  sins,  the  sensualist  can  never 
avail  himself  of  that  protection,  because  he  acts  in  direct 
contradiction  to  the  very  first  principles  of  true  Chris- 
tian charity.  "  Love  worketh  no  ill  to  his  neighbor," 
says  St,  Paul  ;  therefore  love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the 
law  ;  and  therefore  he  who  works  such  ill  to  his  neigh- 
bor, as  the  voluptuary  does  every  day,  (by  destroying 
the  innocence,  the  peace,  the  comfort,  the  happiness, 
temporal  and  eternal,  of  those  very  persons  for  whom 
•he  professes  the  tendcrest  regard,)  must  be  an  utter 
stranger  to, real  philanthrophy.  Though  he  may  feed 
the  hungry  and  clothe  the  naked,  and  visit  the  fatherless 
and  widows  in  their  affliction  ;  yet,  if  to  gratify  his 
-own  passions,  he  plunges  those  who  have  never  offend- 
ed him  in  misery  and  disgrace,  he  is  a  hurtful  membe;- 


316  SERMON  XXIV. 

of  society.  Nay,  perhaps  his  very  liberality  and  good- 
nature serve  only  to  render  him  the  moVe  hurtful.  They 
throw  a  lustre  over  the  criminal  part  of  his  character, 
and  render  him  an  object  of  admiration  to  the  crowd  of 
servile  imitators,  who  not  having  the  sense  to  separate 
his  vices  from  his  accomplishments,  from  their  con- 
duct upon  his  example  in  the  gross,  and  hope  to  be- 
come equally  agreeable  by  being  equally  wicked.  And, 
as  if  it  was  not  enough  to  have  these  patterns  before 
our  eyes  in  real  life,  tlficy  are  once  more  served  up  to 
us  in  the  productions  of  some  modern  writers,  who,  to 
the  fond  ambition  of  what  they  call  copying  after  na- 
ture, and  of  gaining  a  name,  are  content  to  sacrifice 
the  interests  of  virtue,  and  to  lend  a  willing  hand  to- 
wards finishing  the  corruption  of  our  manners.  Hence 
it  is,  that  in  several  of  our  most  favorite  works  of  fan- 
cy and  amusement,  the  principal  figure  of  the  piece 
is  some  professed  libertine,  who,  on  the  strength  of  a 
pleabing  figure,  a  captivating  address,  and  a  certain 
amiable  generosity  of  disposition,  has  the  privilege  of 
committing  whatever  irregularities  he  thinks  fit,  and  of 
excusfing  them  in  the  easiest  manner  imaginable,  as  the 
unavoidable  effects  of  constitution,  and  the  little  foibles 
of  a  heart  intrinsically  good.  Thus,  whilst  he  delights 
our  imagination,  and  wins  our  afiections,  he  never  fails, 
at  the  same  time,  to  corrupt  our  principles.  And 
young  people,  more  especially,  instead  of  being  inspir- 
ed with  a  just  detestation  of  vice,  are  furnished  with 
apologies  for  it  which  they  never  forget,  and  are  even 
taught  to  consider  it  as  a  necessary  part  of  an  accom- 
plished character. 

It  becomes,  then,  every  sincere  Christian  to  oppose 
to  the  utmost  this  prevailing  licentiousness,  which  in- 
sinuates itself  into  the  manners  and  minds  of  men,  un- 
der the  protection  of  some  engaging  qualities,  with 
^  which  it  sometimes  w,  but  much  oftener  affects  to  be, 
imited.  And  the  only  way  of  putting  a  stop  to  this 
mischief,  and  of  restoring  that  union  which  the  text 
enforces,  and  which  ought  always  to  subsist  between 
the  two  great  branches  of  practical  morality,  is  to  sho\r 


SERMON  XXIV.  31T 

by  our  example  (the  most  intelligible  and  convincing 
of  all  proofs)  that  Benevolence  is  then  most  lovely, 
when  joined  with  its  true  ally,  its  proper  companion, 
Self-Government  ;  that,  in  order  to  form  a  pleas- 
ing character,  it  is  by  no  means  necessary  to  throw  into 
it  any  impure  alloy  ;  but  that  on  the  contrary,  a  truly 
pious  and  strictly  moral  Christian,  will  not  only  be  the 
most  virtuous,  but  the  most  amiable  of  men. 

Unhappily,  indeed,  a  contrary  opinion  has  too  long 
and  too  generally  prevailed  amongst  us  ;  and  licentious 
wits  have  taught  great  numbers  to  believe  that  purity 
of  manners  is  a  vulgar  and  a  contemtpil)Ie  virtue,  and 
that  all  pretence  to  it  is  in  general  nothing  more  than 
hypocrisy  and  grimace.     But  let  us  not  be  frightened 
by  a  few  hard  \\  ords  and  a  little  witless  buffoonery,  from 
pursuing  steadily  the  invariable  rule  of  moral  rectitude. 
As  sure  as  God  himself  is  all  purity  and  perfection, 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  real  purity  of  heart  and  life ; 
and  it  is  one  of  the  most  exalted  virtues  that  can  dig- 
nify human  nature.     It  gives  that  strength  and  vigour 
and  masculine  firmness  to  the  mind,  which  is  the  foun- 
dation of  every  thing  great  and  excellent.     It  has  pro- 
duced some  of  the  noblest  struggles,  and   most  heroi- 
cal  exertions,  of  soul,  that  the  world  ever  saw,  and  is, 
perhaps,  a  more  convincing,  more  unequivocal  proof 
of  our  sincerity  in  religion,  than  even  benevolence  it- 
self.    When  it  is  considered  how  many  inducements, 
how  many  temptations^  there  are  to  acts  of  humanity, 
to  which  nature  prompts,  to  which  fashion  draws,  to 
which  vanity,  interest,  popularity,  ambition,    some- 
times lead  us,  one  cannot  always  be   sure  that  they 
proceed  from  a  truly  Christian  principle.     But  he  who 
combats  his  darlin«-  passions,  and  gives  up  the   fondest 
wishes  of  his  soul  ;  who  keeps  a  constant  guard  upon 
all  his  thoughts,  words,  and  actions  ;  intrepidly  with- 
stands the  most  alluring  temptations,  and  taken  up  his 
Cross  to  follow  Christ  ;  this  man  cannot  well  be  in- 
fluenced by  any  thing  but  a  strong  sense  of  duty,  and 
an  undissembled  conviction  that  he  is  bound  to  obey 
even  the  severest  precepts  of  the  Gospel.     His  good 


518  SERMON  XXIV. 

actions  are  neither  seen  nor  applauded  of  men.  They 
are  performed  in  secrecy  and  in  silence  without  osten'- 
tation,  without  regard,  save  only  the  approbation  of 
that  all-seeing  God,  who  is  witness  to  the  bitter  con- 
flicts of  his  soul,  and  will  one  day  make  him  ampl© 
amends  in  the  sight  of  angels  and  of  men. 

Let  it  not,  however,  be  supposed  that  any  thing  here 
said  is  meant  to  depreciate  that  most  heavenly  virtue, 
charity,  or  to  rob  those  that  exercise  it  of  that  fair  fame, 
that  heartfelt  satisfaction,  and  those  glorious  rewards 
hereafter,  which  through  the  merits  of  their  Redeemer 
cannot  fail  to  recompense  their  generous  labors.    May 
every  branch  and  species  of  benevolence  for  ever  flou- 
rish and  abound.     May  its  divine  and  blessed  influence 
spread  continually  wider  and  wider,  till  it  takes  in  every 
creature  under  heaven,  and  leaves  not  one  misery  un- 
alleviated,  one  grievance  unredressed.     But  all  exceU 
lent  as  it  is,  let  not  this,  let  not  any  single  virtue,  en- 
:gross  our  whole  attention.     Let  us  not  confine   our- 
selves to  the  easy,  the  delightful,  the  reputable  works  of 
beneficence,  and  neglect  the  other  great  branch  of  moral 
duty,  Self-denial  ;  no   less  necessary  and  impor- 
tant, but  much  more  difHcuIt,   and  which,  therefore, 
■stands  in  need  of  every  possible  argument  in   its  favor 
to  recommend  and  support  it.     Let  us  no  longer  make 
inviduous  and  unjust  distinctions  between  these  two 
kindred  virtues.     In  nature,  in  reason,  in  the  sight  of 
God,  in  the  Gospel  of  Christ,   sen"- government  is  of 
equal  value  with  social  duties.     They  equally  tend  to 
tlie  perfection  of  our  own  minds  and  the  comfort  of  our 
fellow-creatures.     The  same  rewards  are  in  Scripture 
promised  to  both ;  the  same  penalties  are  denounced 
against  the  violation  of  both  ;   and  ther^  is  so  strict  and 
intimate  a  union  between  them,  that  the.  cultivation  or 
neglect  of  the  one,  must  necessarily  lead,  and  has,   in 
fact,  always  ultimately  led,  to  the  improvement  or  de- 
privation of  the  other.     What  then  God  and  nature,  as 
well  as  Christ  and  his  apostles,  have  joined  together, 
let  no  man  dare    to  put   asunder.     Let  not  any   one 
Matter  himself  with  the  hope  of  obtaining  the  re^vards^ 


SERMON  XXIV.  319 

or  even  escaping  the  punishments  of  the  Gospel,  by- 
performing  only  one  branch  of  his  duty.  Let  him 
not  imagine,  that  the  most  rigorous  severity  of  man- 
ners can  excuse  him  from  the  exercise  of  undissembled 
love  to  God  and  to  mankind  ;  nor,  on  the  other  hand, 
let  him  suppose,  that  under  the  shelter  either  of  devo- 
tion or  of  benevolence,  he  may  securely  indulge  his 
favorite  passions ;  may  compound,  as  it  were,  with 
God  for  his  sensuality  by  acts  of  generosity,  and  pur- 
chase by  his  wealth  a  general  license  to  sin.  Let  him 
not,  in  short,  content  himself  with  being  only  half  a 
Christian.  Let  him  visit,  as  often  as  he  pleases,  the 
fatherless  and  the  widows  in  their  affliction.  Let  his 
piety  be  fervent,  and  his  faith  sincere.  But  let  him,  at 
the  same  time,  take  care,  as  he  values  his  salvation, 
that  he  keep  himself  unspotted  from  the  world. 


SERMON  XXV*. 


2  Kings  iv.  1. 

Thy  servant  my  husband  -'s  dead,  and  thou  knoivesi  thai  thy  servant 
did/ear  the  Lord  ;  and  the  creditor  is  come  to  take  unto  him 
my  two  sons  to  be  bond-meii. 

THE  unhappy  sufferer,  who  makes  this  most  mo- 
ving complaint,  was  the  widow  of  one  of  the  sons 
of  the  prophets,  whose  distress  Elisha  immediately  re- 
lieved by  the  miraculous  increase  of  her  pot  of  oil.  It 
will  not  be  easy  to  find  in  any  writer,  sacred  or  profane, 
a  more  piteous  story,  or  a  case  more  applicable  to  the 
occasion  of  the  present  meeting.  I  cannot  therefore 
do  better  than  leave  it  upon  your  minds  in  that  concise 
and  affecting  simplicity  in  which  it  is  here  related,  whilst 
I  proceeded  to  recommend  the  distressed  Widows  and 
Children  of  the  English  Clergy  to  your  benevolent  pro- 
tection. 

The  nature  and  designof  the  several  charitable  in- 
stitutions, which  have  now  brought  us  together,  are,  I 
presume,  so  well  understood  in  this  place,  that  there  can 
be  no  need  to  take  up  any  of  your  time  in  explaining 
themf.     The  generous  support  they  have  hitherto  met 

*  Preached  at  the  anniversary  meeting  of  the  Sons  of  the  Clergy,  May 
9,  1776. 

t  Biit  it  may  not  perhaps  be  generally  known  that  there  are  three  distinct 
societies  formed  for  the  benefit  of  the  indigent  widows  and  children  of  the 
Clergy,  and  all  clo.-rly  connecfed  with  each  other 

S  The  first  and  principal  is  The  Corporation  for  the  Relief  of  the  poor  Wi- 
do-ws  and  Children  of  CiergiVien,  established  by  charter  in  the  reign  of  King 
Cbarles  the  Second,  '1  he  funds  of  this  charit/  are  employed  chiefly  in 
giving  peniiions  to  the  widows  of  the  clergy. 


SERMON  XXV.  321 

with  demands  our  most  grateful  acknowledgments  ; 
and  in  order  to  keep  this  friendly  dispositions  towards 
us  alive  and  warm  in  your  breasts,  I  shall  attempt  to 
show  that  the  clergy  of  the  Church  of  I'^ngland  have, 
both  on  account  of  their  public  sewicesy  and  (with 
respect  to  too  large  a  part)  their  prroatc  necessities^  a 
peculiar  claim  to  your  kind  attention  and  assistance. 

If  we  go  back  to  the  early  ages  of  Christianity  our 
own  Ecclesiastics  had  their  share,  widi  others  of  the 
sacred  order,  in  first  introducing  the  light  of  the  Gos- 
pel into  this  country,  and  in  sacrificing  to  its  advance- 
ment their  ease,  their  health,  their  fortunes,  their  lives. 
When  in  after-times,  by  a  variety  of  concurrent  causes, 
this  kingdom  was,  in  common  with  all  its  neighbors, 
overwhelmed  with  the  most  deplorable  darkness  and  ig- 
norance ;  and  when  that  stupendous  fabric  of  popish 
tyranny  and  superstition  ^vas,  like  another  Babel,  raised 
up  with  incredible  art  and  diligence,  to  the  very  skies  ; 
yet  still  the  Christian  clergy  in  general,  and  ours  among 
the  rest,  were  of  no  small  benefit  to  the  community. 
It  is  acknowledged  by  an  historian,  ^vho  has  never  be- 
trayed any  partiality  to  our  order,  that  in  the  period  we 
nre  speaking  of,  "  the  profession  and  (let  me  add)  the 
*'  disposition  of  the  churchmen,  averse  to  arms  and  vio- 
*'  lence,  tempered  the  general  turn  to  military  enter- 
*'  prises,  and  maintained  even  amidst  the  shock  of 
**  arms,  those  secret  links  without  which  it  is  impossi- 

The  second,  which  rose  not  long  after,  is,  The  Society  of  the  Feist  of  the 
Sons  of  the  Clergy,  consisffrig  of  the  company  annually  assembled  under 
that  name  at  St.  Paul's  Church,  and  Merchant-Taylors  Hall.  The  money- 
collected  at  those  two  places  is  wholly  expended  in  apprenticing  out  the  chil- 
dren of  necessitous  clergymen.  The  expenses  of  the  music  and  tlie  feast 
are  generously  defrayed  by  the  stewards  of  that  society. 

The  third,  is  The  Society  of  Ste-wards  and  Suhscribers  for  tnnintai^-.itig  and 
educating  the  poor  Orphans  of  the  Clergy  till  rf  age  to    be  pin   Apprentices. 

This  society  was  formed  in  the  year  1749.  It  is  comj)osed  of  those  who 
have  been  stewards  of  the  former  society,  and  any  others  who  chuse  to  be- 
come members  of  it.  It  is  supported  by  annual  subscrii)tions  of  one  guinea 
each,  and  maintains  two  schools,  one  for  boys,  and  the  other  for  girls,  in 
which  the  orphans  of  the  clergy  are  educated  till  they  are  of  sufficient  age 
to  go  out  to  apprenticeships. 

It  might  be  of  use  if  a  short  and  clearaccount  of  these  societies  was  print- 
ed in  a  small  tract,  de.scribing  their  nature  and  design,  together  with  the 
proper  time  and  method  of  applying  to  them  for  relief,  and  the  persons  t© 
whom  such  applications  should  be  made. 

Rr 


322  SERMON  XXV; 

*'  ble  for  human  socie^^  to  subsist*."  Nay,  even  ma- 
ny privileges  of  the  order  that  were  justly  looiied  up- 
on with  a  jealous  eye,  yet  proved,  in  those  turbulent 
ages,  a  check  to  the  despotism  of  our  monarchs,  and  at 
the  same  time  kept  the  community  from  fiillingto  pieces 
by  the  Mictions  and  quarrels  of  the  nobles.  And  it  ought 
never  to  be  forgotten,  that  for  what  we  call  our  Mag- 
na Chart  A,  that  main  foundation  (as  it  is  generally 
held  to  be)  of  our  free  constitution,  we  are  principallv 
indebted  to  the  eloquence,  the  spirit,  and  the  activity 
of  an  English  primatef,  assisted  and  supported  by  al- 
most the  whole  body  of  his  clergy.  It  is  true,  indeed, 
in  other  respects  the  conduct  of  our  Ecclesiastics  was 
not  always  so  irreproachable  as  might  have  been  wish- 
ed ;  for  they  must  needs  partake  in  some  degree  of  the 
corruption  and  barbarity  which  then  generally  prevailed. 
Yet  great  numbers  of  them,  did  notwithstanding,  pre- 
serve themselves  pure  and  undefiled  from  the  vices  of 
the  age,  and  were  exemplary  in  their  manners,  tempe- 
rate, charitable,  meek  and  heavenly-minded.  Their 
cloysters  were  a  retreat  not  merely,  as  is  commonly 
supposed,  for  the  idle  and  dissolute,  but  for  the  studi- 
ous, the  afllicted,  the  penitent  and  the  devout.  They 
afforded  support  to  all  the  neighboring  poor,  and  in 
those  dnys  of  lavv'lcss  violence,  were  extremely  useful 
as  places  of  refuge  and  security  to  the  defenceless  and 
the  weak.  In  them  too  were  deposited  many  of  those 
precious  remains  of  antiquity  which  we  TiOw  peruse 
with  so  much  delight,  ancl  which,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  protection  they  found  in  religious  houses,  wouldj 
in  all  probability,  ha\c  perished  by  the  hands  of  those 
barbarians  that  spread  ruin  and  desolation  over  Europe. 

*  Iliime's  Hist,  of  EnglaiiLl,  Hen.  HI.  vol.  ii.  p.  10. 1st  edit.  4to.  17'62. 

-{-  Stephen  Langton,  archbishop  of  Caiiterburv ;  "  a  man  whose  memo- 
"  ry,"  savs  the  historian  above  ir.entioned,  "  ought  always  to  be  respected 
"  by  the  English."     Vol.  1.  p.  382. 

In  the  following  i-eign  the  abbots  and  prelates  v.'ere  very  instrumental  in 
obtaining  the  same  security  from  Hen.  III.  and  they  endeavored  to  guard 
ar-ainst  all  future  vicladons  of  it  by  a  most  tremendous  ceremony.  Thej- 
stood  i-ound  theGfiKAT  Charter,  v.hilst  it  was  read  in  parliament,  wiih 
burning  tapers  in  their  hands,  and  denounced  the  sentence  of  excommunica- 
tion against  every  one  that  should  thenccf'.nnh  dure  to  infringe  that  funda- 
B-icntal  Taw.     lb.  Vol  II.  p.  25,  26. 


SER?^ION  XXV.  525 

In  these  peaceful  sanctuaries,  the  leisure  and  tranquilli- 
ty which  the  monks  enjoyed,  enabled  them  not  only  to 
record  (however  uncoiithly)  the  transactions  of  their 
own  times,  but  to  transcribe  the  compositions  of  for- 
mer and  more  valuuble  writers.  Nor  w  as  this  th.e  only 
ol:'ject  of  their  attention.  They  found  time  to  culti- 
vate even  some  of  the  finer  arts.  Those  sublime  pow- 
ers of  harm.ony,  \\hich  ha\'e  been  thisVcry  dav  so  no- 
bly and  laudably  exerted  in  the  cause  of  the  fatherless 
and  the  widow,  owe  their  birth  in  this  country  to  mo- 
nastic diligence  and  ingenuity.  Both  the  theory  and 
the  practice  of  music  \vere  iirst  studied  and  taught 
here,  and  in  other  parts  of  Europe,  by  the  regular 
clergy*  ;  and  what  is  now  the  delight  and  amusement 
of  all  ranks  of  people,  was  originally  the  offspring  of 
Religion,  and  appropriated  solely  to  the  purpose  of 
animating  devotion,  and  giving  dignity  ixnd  solem.nity 
to  the  service  of  the  church.  The  monks  drew  up  a 
large  number  of  treatises  on  this  subject,  which  not- 
withstanding the  barbarism  of  the  times,  v.ere  v. ritteri 
with  great  perspicuity,  method,  and  precision  ;  and 
they  had  seminaries  of  young  people  under  their  care, 
whom  they  instructed  in  the  rudiments  of  this  science. 
Libraries  were  also  formed  in  all  the  monasteries,  and 
schools  founded  in  them  and  near  most  of  the  cathe- 
drals, for  teaching  the  literature  of  the  tim.est.  -'^"d 
thus  was  learning  kept  alive  at  least,  though  in  a  very 
languid  state,  till  the  art  of  printing  was  found  out. 
Even  that  most  useful  art  itself  was,  according  to  the 
opinion  of  some  learned  men,  which  seems  to  be  well 
founded,  first  brought  into  our  island  by  the  care  and 
generosity  of  an  English  primate.1:.  In  the  restoration 
of  letters,   which  quickly    followed,  the  Ecclesiastics 

•  See  Dr.  Eiirney'b  Hist,  of  Music,  vol.  ii.  p.  68.     And  Sir  John  Hawk- 
in's  Preliminary  Disc.  p.  48  to  53  :  and  vol.  v.  p.  112,  113. 

f  Vide  Moshemii  Hi.st.  Ecclcs.  sec.  vi.  par.  ii.  c.  1.  p.  237- 
+  Archbishop  Bouvchier;  who  persuaded  Henry  VI.  to  furnish  one  Mr. 
Robert  Turnour  with  a  thousand  marks  (tov,-urd.s  which  the  archbishop  con- 
tributed three  hundred),  and  to  send  liini  privately  to  Harlem,  in  company 
with  Caxton,  in  order  to  fetcli  fron\  thcncc  tlie  iicw-invented  art  cf  print- 
ing ;  which  he  did  accordingly,  by  bringinq;  over  to  England  Frederick  Cor- 
seilis,  one  of  tlie  coinnoiitors  at  Haileiu.     Sec   Biograph.   Uritann.   art. 


324  SERMON  XXV. 

took  the  lead,  and  contributed  more  than  any  other  set 
of  men  to  introduce  a  true  taste  for  every  branch  df 
polite  and  useful  learning  into  this  country.  From  that 
period  to  the  present,  they  have  always  made  a  distin- 
guished figure  in  the  whole  circle  of  sciences  and  arts  ; 
their  writings  have  ever  ranked  amongst  the  purest  of 
their  times  ;  and  let  the  occasion  excuse  me  if  I  add, 
(the  proofs  of  what  I  say  are  before  the  world)  that 
our  profession  is  at  this  very  day  adorned  by  men,  who, 
in  genius,  learning,  judgment,  taste,  and  elegance  of 
composition,  have  few  if  any  superiors. 

Whoever,  then,  is  a  friend  to  literature  and  the  fine 
arts,  must  be  a  friend  to  the  English  clergy,  and  will 
cheerfully  contribute  to  the  relief  of  that  order  which 
has  so  largely  contributed  to  his  information  and  amuse- 
ment. But  they  have  still  more  substantial  services 
than  these  to  plead.  To  them  you  stand  principally 
indebted,  not  only  for  the  restoration  of  letters,  but  the 
revival  of  true  Religion.  For  although  the  first  oppo- 
sition made  here  to  the  usurpations  of  the  Church  of 
Rome  took  its  rise  from  the  passions  of  an  impetuous 
prince,  yet  the  work  of  reformation  itself  was  undoubt- 
edly begun,  carried  on,  and  completed  by  the  hands  of 
the  English  clerg}^  In  this  glorious  cause  they  wrote 
with  irresistible  strength  of  argument,  and  suffered 
AA  ith  invincible  fortitude  of  mind.  To  their  labors, 
their  piety  and  learning,  their  judgment  and  modera- 
tion, you  owe  that  pure  mode  of  worship,  and  that  ex- 
cellent form  of  public  prayer  you  now  enjoy  ;  the  con- 
stant use  of  which  in  the  Church  of  England,  has  un- 
doubtedly, in  more  respects  than  one,  been  of  infinite 
service  to  the  people  of  this  kingdom.  And  when,  at 
a  subsequent  period,  our  religious  as  well  as  civil  liber- 
ties were  in  the  most  imminent  danger  of  being  destroy- 
ed by  the  intemperate  zeal  of  a  bigotted  and  despotic 
monarch,  then  again  did  the  clergy  courageously  step 
forth  in  defence  of  both.     From  them  originated  one 

Bourchier.  Dr.  MidiUeton,  indeed,  and  others,  have  endeavored  to  disprove 
the  truth  of  this  story  ;  but  their  most  material  objections  to  it  have  been 
well  answered  by  Mr.  Meerman,  in  his  very  curious  and  learicred  work,  en- 
tiik-d,  Ori^ines  Typogra})hica:,  vol.  ii. 


SERMON  XXV.  325 

of  the  very  first  parliamentary  checks  to  the  violences  of 
lames  II.*  By  their  excellent  discourses  and  writings 
against  popery,  the  people  were  first  roused  to  a  just 
abhorrence  of  that  dangerous  superstitionf.  By  their 
decent,  yet  manly  fitraness,  in  supporting  their  invaded 
rights,  the  rest  of  the  nation  v;as  inspired  with  a  similar 
resolution  to  resist  the  precipitate  and  unconstitutional 
measures  of  an  infatuated  court;  and  diroughout  the 
whole  of  that  memorable  and  glorious:  transaction, 
their  behavior  was  at  once  so  prudent  uiid  ir.trc  pid,  so 
suitable  to  their  p'ol'ession,  and  so  fi  iendly  to  the  righte- 
ous cause  of  genuine  liberty  and  pure  r(lii;lon,  that 
they  received  one  of  the  highest  and  most  flattering  re- 
wards with  which  a  Biitish  subject  can  be  honored, 
the  unanimous  thanks  of  the  Commons  of  Great  Bri- 
tain in  Parliament  assembled^. 

These,  perhaps  it  will  be  said,  though  important, 
are  past  services,  and  are  calculated  to  prove,  not  what 
we  ourselves,  but  what  our  predecessors  have  done  for 
the  public.  Yet  surely  they  are  reasons  for  esteeming 
the  order  in  general,  for  bearing  testimony  to  the  me- 
rits of  those  who  have  formerly  adorned  it,  and  for  ex - 
-ercising  every  act  of  kindness  and  humanity  towards 

•  Henry  Compton,  bishop  of  London,  in  the  name  cf  his  brethren,  iriacle 
a  motion  in  the  House  of  Lords  to  take  into  consideration  King  James'  fa- 
inous  speech  in  the  second  session  of  parliament,  in  which  he  signihcd  his 
intention  o( disfieiish^  with  the  Test-acts.  The  bishop's  n^.otion  was  carried. 
Hume's  Hist.  vol.  vi.  p. '390. — I  have  referred  to  this  historian  all  along,  for 
no  other  reason,  than  because  his  testimony,  when  given  in  y«it,r  of  the 
clergy  (whom  he  sincerely  hated)  is  unexceptionable. 

■f  To  the  same  eminent  persons  we  owe  the  subversion  cf  tlic  whole 
system  of  Atheistic  Philosophy,  from  its  very  foundations.  See  the  Bishop 
«f  Worcester's  Sermons.     S.  i.  p.  23. 

^  Journals  of  the  House  of  Commons,  Feb.  1,  1688. 

Among  other  instances  of  cool  yet  resolute  f;]>];osition  to  the  despotism 
of  James  by  the  prelates  and  clergy  cf  the  Chuicl-.  cf  England  at  tl::s  mo- 
mentous period,  the  reader  will  recollect  with  pccul'ar  venera'inn  and  grati- 
tude, Bishop  Compton's  refusal  to  comply  with  the  king'.^  illigal  crder  to 
suspend  Dr.  SUarp,  for  preaching  against  poperj-  ;  tie  resistance  niade  by 
Dr.  Hough,  and  the  Fellows  of  Magdalen  College  in  Oxford,  to  the  king's 
arbitrary  mandate  in  favor  fyf  a  popish  jjresident  ;  ai.d  ihc  truly  noble  and 
patriotic  conduct  of  the  seven  Bishops  who  were  sent  tc  the  Tower,  and 
brought  to  a  public  trial  for  their  petition  to  the  throne  against  the  seccnd 
Declaration  of  Indulgence  founded  on  tLe  Dis/cnshg  Fiv.tr  '1 1  tse  ads  of 
magnanimity  on  the  part  of  the  Er.gli.sh  clergy,  indiiputably  prepared  and 
led  the  way  to  the  great  and  glorious  events  which  soon  after  fclkwed. 


^26  SERMON  XXV. 

the  persons  who  succeed  them  in  their  ministry.  And 
even  these,  v;e  hope,  have  something  to  plead  in  their 
behalf.  They  have  not,  we  trust,  materially  departed 
from  the  principles  of  their  ancestors.  The  Enj^lish 
clergy,  we  do  not  scruple  to  say,  are  still  zealously  at- 
tached to  the  interests  of  virtue  and  religion  ;  are  still 
in  general,  faithful,  diligent,  and  regular  in  the  dis- 
charge of  their  sacred  functions.  They  are  still  sin- 
cere friends  to  real  consihutional  freedom  ;  and  the  very 
same  love  of  it,  v»'hich  at  the  Revolution  led  them  to 
refuse  a  slavish  and  unlimited  obedience  to  the  illegal 
mandates  of  arbitrary  power.,  induces  them  now  to  pro- 
mote, both  by  their  doctrine  and  their  example,  that 
dutiful  respect,  and  conscientious  submission  to  all 
lawful  authority',  which  the  Gospel  most  peremptorily 
enjoins  ;  the  extreme  want  of  which  is  at  present  but 
too  visible,  and  yet  without  which  no  true  liberty  can 
long  subsist.  But  although,  on  these  grounds,  they 
have  judged  it  expedient  to  throw-  their  weight  into 
the  scale  of  government,  yet  they  have  done  this  with- 
out  any  unbecoming  vehemence  or  heat  ;  and  amidst 
all  the  violent  dissensions  which  have  lately  agitated 
this  kingdom  they  have,  as  a  body,  conducted  them- 
selves with  a  degree  of  prudence,  temper,  mildness  and 
moderation,  v/hich  must  do  them  no  small  credit  in  the 
eyes  of  every  unprejudiced  observer*.  And  that,  in 
other  respects,  their  talents,  their  learning,  and  their 
morals,  are  such  as  have  gained  them  general  approba- 
tion and  esteem,  may  be  collected  from  this  single  cir- 
cumstance ;  that  when  you  want  to  find  out  proper  in- 
structors for  your  children,  you  namrally  turn  your 
thoughts  to  the  clergy  ;  and  it  is  in  their  hands,  in  their 
houses,  you  chuse  to  place  whatever  you  hold  most 
dear  and  valuable  in  the  world.  To  them,  in  short, 
has  long  been,  and  still  is,  confided  that  most  important 
trust,  the  education  of  youth  ;  a  trust  which  it  is  no 
vain  boast  to  say,   they  have  discharged  with  fidelity 

•  These  remarks,  thoiirh  first  made  in  the  year  177&,  are  no  less  true  at 
tlie  present  momsiit. 


SEI^MON  XXV:  327 

and  nbllity*^.  Under  their  direction,  the  schools  and 
universities  of  this  kingdom  have  acquired  an  acknow- 
ledged superiority  over  all  the  other  seminaries  of  Eu- 
rope. In  their  colleges  have  been  formed  most  of  those 
gieat  and  illustrious  characters  that  have  contributed 
to  the  glory  and  prosperity  of  this  country  :  and  even 
among  that  large  number  of  persons  here  present,  there 
are  few  I  apprehend,  who  have  not,  at  some  period  of 
their  lives,  derived  considerable  benefit  from  the  instruc- 
tions of  our  order. 

These  known  and  undeniable  facts  arc,  we  conceive, 
very  unequivocal  proofs  of  our  good  condivct  and  good 
estimation  ;  and  ought  greatly  to  outweigh  all  those  un- 
merited calumnies  wliich  are  so  often  thrown  both  npoa 
the  order  in  general,  and  the  individuals  of  which  it  is 
composed,  by  those  who  know  very  little  of  eitherf. 
That  there  arc  in  ours,  as  in  every  other  j)rofession,  se- 
veral unworthy  members,  it  is  in  vain  to  deny  ;  and 
where  can  be  the  wonder,  if  in  so  very  numerous  a  so- 
ciety some  apostates  should  be  found  ?  But  take  the 
\vhole  in  one  collective  view,  and  it  may  v/ith  the  great- 
est truth  be  affirmed,  that  you  will  no  vvhcre  fmd,  either 
in  ancient  or  modern  times,  a  body  of  more  than  ten 
thousand  persons,  situated  in  the  midst  of  a  populous,, 
rich,  commercial,  luxurious  kingdom,  surrounded  with 
every  temptation,  and  every  danger  to  which  virtue  can 
be  exposed,  whose  morals  are  so  blameless,  and  so  lit- 
tle  injured  by  the  general  contagion,   as  those  of  the 

•  How  well  qualined  they  are  for  this  employment,  has  been  fully 
shown  by  a  consummate  judge  of  the  subject  of  education,  in  the  Dialogue* 
on  the  Uses  of  Foreign  Travel,  1st  ei.  Dial.  2.  p.  183.  The  attentive  perusal 
of  these  inimitable  Dialogues  is  strongly  recommended  to  all  those  who 
prefer  a  foreign  university  to  our  own,  or  who  suffer  their  sons  to  ranibl't 
over  Europe  at  an  early  and  most  dangerous  period  of  life,  not  only  without 
a  clerical  governor,  but  even  sometimes  without  any  governor  at  all. 

t  "  The  n-aC,"  says  a  great  and  good  prelate,  '«  which  most  of  our  ad- 
"  versaries  seem  to  have  set  themselves  is,  to  be  at  all  adventures  as  bitter 
"  as  they  can  ;  and  they  follow  it  not  only  beyond  truth,  but  beyond  proba- 
**  bihty ;  asserting  the  very  worst  things  of  us  without  foundation,  and  ex- 
"  aggerating  every  thing  without  mercv  ;  iinputing  the  faults,  and  some- 
"  times  imaginary  faults  of  particular  persons,  to  the  whole  order  ;  ancf 
•'  then  declaiming  against  us  all  promiscuously  with  such  wild  vehemence,, 
"  as,  in  any  ca^e  but  ours,  they  themselves  would  think  in  the  highest  ue- 
"  grce  cruel  and  unjust."     Sechr^t  Cbar~es,  p.  5. 


S28  SERMON  XXV. 

English  clergy.     With  respect  to  that  part  of  them, 
more  especially,  whose  families  (wheK  they  themselves 
shall  be  no  more)  will  probabl}''  want  the  protection  of 
this  charity,  it  is  but  justice  to  them  to  say,  that  their 
conduct  renders  them  worthy  of  every  act  of  kindness 
which  their  poverty  may  require.     Contented,  humble, 
modest,  patient,  and  laborious,  their  lives  are  divided 
between  fulfilling  the  duties  of  their  profession,   and 
struggling  with  the  difficulties  of  their  situation.     Nay, 
it  is  to  their  virtue  chiefly  that  these   very  distresses 
are  o\\'ing.     They  are  formed  with  the  same  passions 
and  propensities  as  other  men  ;   and  were  they  as  little 
scrupulous,  about  the  means  of  gratifying  them  as  oth- 
ers too  commonly  are  ;  had  they  adopted  that  very  com- 
modious system  of  modern  ethics,  which  ranks  hypoc- 
risy and  adultery  among  the  requisites  of  a  good  educa- 
tion, there  Viould  certainly  be  no  need  for  us  ever  to 
become  your  petitioners  for  their  widows  and  children. 
But  as  they  have  been  trained  up  in  a  religion  which 
requires  unblemished  purity  of  manners  and  of  heart, 
they  think  themselves  boimd  to  keep  within  the  limits 
prescribed  by  their  heavenly  Master,    and  to   allow 
themselves  no  gratifications  but  those  which  he  has 
pronounced  lavrful  and  honorable.     Hence  they  arc  of- 
ten induced  to  contract  early  marriages,  and  find  them- 
selves surrounded  by  a  numerous  family  before  they  are 
provided  Vv^ith  the  means  of  supporting  them.     At  the 
same  time  they  are  expected  to  live  creditably,  and  to 
maintain  a  decent  hospitality  amongst  their  neighbors. 
To  them  the  poor,  the  sick,  the  distressed  part  of  their 
flock,  naturally  look  up,  as  their  chief  refuge  and  sup- 
port ;  and  in  some  small  villages  (if  you  except  paro- 
chial relief)  the  minister  of  the  parish  is  almost  the  only 
resource  they  have.     These  demands  he  is  commonly 
inclined  to  answer  to  the  utmost  of  his  power.     Per- 
haps, too,  he  may  have  the  misfortune  of  a  little  taste 
for  books,  which  is  not  indulged  without  expense  ;  and 
from  his  acquaintance  with  the  best  and  purest  writers 
of  antiquity,  as  well  as  from  the  habits  and  connections 
of  his  early  years,  he  may  have  acquired  sentiments 


SERMON  XXV.  32f 

and  feelings  far  beyond  the  straitness  of  his  circum- 
stances, and  the  humility  of  his  condition.  Hence, 
besides  the  large  sums  which  he  is  often  obliged  to  ex- 
pend on  the  necessary  repairs  of  his  parsonage,  he  may 
possibly  be  induced  to  add  a  few  conveniences  to  it; 
he  may  cx'cn  be  tempted,  by  the  natural  beauties  of  its 
situation,  to  expend  more  in  improving  and  adorning 
his  little  territories,  and  in  rendering  them  comfortable 
and  defightful  to  himself  and  those  that  follow  him, 
than  in  strict  prudence  he  ought.  In  a  few  years  his 
sons  must  be  sent  to  schools  and  universities,  or  to 
trades  and  professions  :  and  if,  perchance,  he  should  be 
ambitious  of  giving  his  daughters  also  a  few  useful  ac- 
complishments, let  us  pardon  him  this  wrong  ;  it  is  the 
only  fortune  he  can  give  them.  These  expenses  neces- 
sarily oblige  him  to  anticipate  his  narrow  income,  and 
to  contract,  perhaps  a  considerable  debt ;  a  load  which 
often  lies  so  heavy  upon  his  mind,  that  it  brings  him 
prematurely  down  with  sorrow  to  the  grave.  Then  it 
is  that  his  wife  and  children  find  themselves  plunged 
not  only  in  the  severest  affliction,  but  in  embarrass- 
ments out  of  \\'hich  they  are  utterly  imable  to  extricate 
themselves.  It  is  then  the  widow  may,  with  but  too 
much  propriety,  address  herself  to  every  one  of  us  in 
the  words  of  the  text,  "  Thy  servant  my  husband  is 
*'  dead,  and  thou  knowcst  that  thy  servant  did  fear  the 
*'  Lord,  and  the  crcdior  is  come  to  take  unto  him  my 
*'  two  sons  to  be  bond-men."  Her  children  cannot, 
indeed,  in  this  land  of  freedom,  be  literally  carried  into 
bondage  ;  but  it  is  necessary,  both  for  their  subsistence 
and  her's,  that  they  should  all,  in  one  way  or  other,  be 
taken  away  from  her,  and  subjected  probably  to  much 
harsher  usage  than  they  had  hitherto  experienced.  The 
head  is  gone,  and  the  little  society  is  dissolved  ;  they 
must  quit  the  beloved  mansion  where  they  have  spent 
their  lives,  and  which  they  have  made  so  neat  and  cheer- 
ful at  their  own  cost,  perhaps  Vv-ith  the  labor  of  their 
own  hands.  The  small  remnant  of  i)ooks  and  furniture, 
that  constituted  all  their  wealth,  iht  y  see  disposed  of  for 
the  benefit  of  their  creditors ;  and  tlien — tiicy  ha\e  no- 

Ss 


330  SERMON  XX^. 

thing  to  do  but  to  disperse  themselves  where  they  caw 
to  seek  support. 

In  this  critical  moment  it  is  that  these  charitable  es- 
tablishments open  their  friendly  arms  to  receive  them 
and  each  bears  its  respective  part  in  ministering  to  their 
necessities*-.  The  Incorporate  Society  takes  the  wi- 
dow under  its  immediate  protection,  and  allows  her  a 
decent  pension  so  long  as  her  condition  and  her  cir- 
cumstances continue  unchanged.  The  Society  of  Steiv- 
ards  and  Subscribers,  instituted  in  the  year  1749,  un- 
dertakes the  maintenance  and  education  of  her  children, 
till  they  are  of  age  to  be  apprenticed  ;  and  when  they 
are  of  sufficient  age,  The  Society  of  the  Feast  of  the 
So?is  of  the  Clergy  provides  them  w|th  proper  masters, 
and  puts  them  into  a  way  of  obtaining  a  comfortable 
subsistence,  and  becoming  useful  members  of  society. 

Thus  you  see,  each  of  these  excellent  institutions 
has  its  proper  use  and  peculiar  department  ;  and  all  of 
them  concur  in  forming  one  noble  comprehensive  plan 
of  national  charity.  But  this  plan  can  never  be  carried 
into  execution  without  the  aid  of  the  wealthy  and  the 
great.  The  Corporation  has  indeed  a  fund  of  its  own  ; 
but  this  fund,  without  occasional  donations  and  bene- 
factions, would  be  very  inadequate  to  the  objects  that 
stand  in  need  of  its  assistance.  As  to  the  other  two 
humane  societies,  one  of  u  hich  educates  the  poor  or- 
phans w  hich  the  other  places  out  in  the  world,  these 
I  say,  are  entirely  supported  by  voluntary  contributions 
and  subscriptions  ;  and  you  will  not,  I  am  sure, 
through  an  ill-judged  parsimony,  "  suffer  any  of  our 
"  little  ones  to  perishf." 

Yet,  notwithstanding  the  apparent  utility,  and  even 
necessity,  of  these  benevolent  foundations,  their  friends 
have  with  no  small  concern  observed,  that  they  ha\'e 
for  some  time  past  been  rather  losing  ground  than 
gaining  it.  For  this,  various  reasons  have  been  as- 
signed ;  but  none,  I  apprehend,  of  sufficient Aveight  to 
abate  any  thing  of  our  ardor  in  support  of  such  gen- 
erous designs.     It  has  been  thought   by   some,  that 

'  Sec  the  note  above  page  320,  321.  f  Matt.  ::Yiii.  14. 


SERMON  XXV.  531 

ithere  is  now  the  less  need  for  a  (general  contribution 
of  this  nature  for  the  widows  and  children  of  the  cler- 
gy, because  there  are  in  particular  dioceses  several  lo- 
cal institutions  of  the  same  kind.  It  is  true  there  are  ; 
but  they  are  not  near  so  universal  as  might  be  wished  : 
they  reach  only,  1  conceive,  to  a  small  part  of  the  kini^*- 
dom,  and  their. operation  is  of  course  confined  within 
a  narrow  compass.  But  were  they  much  more  nume- 
rous tiian  they  are,  were  they  even  spread  through  every 
part  of  the  island,  yet  still  this  original  parent  of  them 
all  ought  to  be  preserved  and  fostered  with  religious 
veneration  and  care.  For  the  growing  increase  of  ex- 
pense in  many  necessary  articles  of  life,  makes  a  pro- 
portionable increase  in  the  wants  of  the  poorer  clergy, 
which  by  this  means  keep  pace  with  the  provisions 
made  in  their  f  ivor ;  and  they  can  but  ill  spare  the 
loss  of  any  assistance,  whether  general  or  local,  which 
•they  have  been  accustomed  to  receive. 

There  is  still  another  circumstance  which  may  have 
contributed  to  the  decrease  of  our  collections,  and  that 
is  the  great  number  of  other  public  charities  of  various 
kinds,  which  have  of  late  years  been  established  in  this 
kingdom.  And  if  this  is  really  the  case,  we  must  not, 
we  do  not,  complain.  If  others  cannot  be  benefited 
but  by  our  loss,  we  are  content.  But  when  we  find 
ourselves  in  the  very  center  of  the  richest  commercial 
city  in  the  world*,  we  cannot  possibly  entertain  the 
least  apprehensions  on  this  head.  In  any  other  place^ 
perhaps,  there  might  be  room  to  fear  that  the  stream  of 
beneficence,  v.hen  divided  into  several  new  channels, 
might  forsake  the  old.  But  be  these  channels  ever  so 
numerous,  your  liberality  can  fill  them  all.  It  is  as  in- 
exhaustible as  your  wealth,  which  is  daily  flowing  in 
upon  you  from  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  and  can  en- 
rich and  fertilize  a  vast  variety  of  different  regions  at 
the  same  time.  Let  then  other  charities  spring  up  in 
whatever  numbers  they  will ;  we  look  not  upon  them 
with  an  envious  or  a  jealous  eye  ;   we  consider  them 

•  This  sermon  was  preached  in  St.  Paul's  cliurch,  in  the  presence  of  the 
iiord  Mayor,  Alderniaii,  &c.  of  the  city  of  London. 


532  SERMON  XXV. 

not  as  rivals,  but  as  sharers,  in  your  bounty,  which 
is  able  to  embrace  both  them  and  us.  Far  from  wish- 
ing to  discourage,  far  from  wishing  to  depreciate,  other 
benevolent  institutions,  and  to  form  invidious  compari- 
sons between  them  and  ours,  we  sincerely  wish  them^ 
on  the  contrary,  all  imaginable  success,  in  full  confi- 
dence that  in  a  capital  like  this  it  will  not,  it  cannot,, 
be  any  obstruction  to  our  own.  You  yourselves  are 
our  witnesses,  that  there  are  none  more  ready  ta coun- 
tenance every  humane  design  than  the  English  clergy*. 
There  is  hardly  one  public  charity  to  be  named  that 
has  not  some  of  our  order  amongst  its  friends  and  sup- 
porters ;  and  if  we  have  any  gifts  of  eloquence,  any 
powers  of  persuasion  to  boast,  they  are  always  ready 
at  your  call  to  recommend  every  generous  plan  that 
you  think  fit  to  patronize  ;  your  schools,  your  hospi- 
tals, your  sick,  your  prisoners,  your  poor.  That  as- 
sistance, then,  which  we  are  ever  disposed  to  give,  we 
now  hope  in  our  turn  to  receive.  Strike  out  into  as 
many  different  paths  of  benevolence  as  you  please  ;  yet 
desert  not,  we  beseech  you,  the  old,  the  tried,  the  ap- 
proved one,  to  which  you  have  been  so  long  accus- 
tomed. This  charity!  has  always  been  your  favorite 
child  ;  it  has  been  born  and  bred  amongst  you  ;  yoii 
have  hitherto  nursed  and  cherished  it  with  the  tendcrest 
care  ;  do  not  now  abandon  it  to  the  wide  world,  where 
it  is  not  yet  strong  enough  to  make  its  way  without 
your  help. 

You  have  seen,  I  trust,  upon  the  whole,  that  they 
for  whose  families  we  beg  relief,  "  are  worthy  for 
*'  whom  you  should  do  thisj:'^  that  those  on  whom 
they  depended  for  support  and  whose  help  they  have 
lost,  were,  both  by  profession  and  by  principle,  most 
useful  members  of  society  ;  and  yet  were  unable  to 
leave  their  children  any  other  inheritance  than  that  of 

*  One  very  recent  and  remarkable  proof  of  this  ought  not  to  be  passed 
over  in  silence.  Mr.  Hetherington,  a  private  clergyman,  gave  birth,  within, 
these  few  years,  to  a  new  and  most  judicious  species  of  charity.  He  es- 
tablished an  annual  provision  for  fifty  blind  persons,  and  appropriated,  in  bis: 
Ufe-time,  to  this  excellent  purpose,  a  fund  of  twenty  thousand  pounds. 

•}•  Icluding  the  three  dififerent  branches  of  it  abovenieationed,  p.  i)2Q,  S22,. 
1  Luke  vii.  4. 


SERMON  XXV.  333 

extreme  poverty,  aggravated  by  the  remembrance  of 
happier  days,  and  by  minds  susceptible  of  the  keenest 
feelings.  May  these  considerations  have  their  due  in- 
fluence on  your  hearts  !  And  may  u  e,  my  reverend 
brethren,  never  forget  that  it  is  in  our  power,  by  our 
future  conduct,  to  give  these  considerations  whatever 
weight  we  think  fit !  If  we  do  not  give  them  all  we 
can  ;  if,  in  proportion  as  we  stand  more  in  need  of 
public  favor,  we  do  not  redouble  our  endeavors  to  de- 
serve it ;  by  a  discreet  inoffensive  behavior  and  con- 
versation, by  residence  on  our  preferments,  by  a  close 
attention  to  tlie  proper  studies  and  functions  of  our 
profession,  by  fervent  piety,  by  extensive  charity,  by 
meekness  and  humility,  by  a  disinterested  and  ardent 
zeal  for  the  advancement  of  religion,  and  the  salvation 
of  mankind  ;  if,  I  say,  by  these,  and  such-like  evan- 
gelical virtues,  we  do  not  support  the  credit  of  our 
character,  and  by  real  usefulness  acquire  veneration 
and  esteem  ;  we  shall  be  no  less  blind  to  our  interest, 
than  unmindful  of  our  diity  both  to  God  and  man*. 

•  See  Archbishop  Seeker's  trtily  pastoral  Giiarges  throughout ;  which  well 
Reserve  the  serious  attention  of  every  sincere  and  conscientious  clergyman  i* 
tfye^  rank  of  the  profession. 


'"•II 


SERMON  XXVL 

EcCLESIASTES    XH.    1. 

Reineniber  now  thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  yonth. 

THE  reason  why  we  are  here,  and  in  other  places  of 
Scripture,  more  particularly  enjoined  to  remember 
God  in  our  youth,  is  obvious  ;  it  is,  because  we 
are  then  most  apt  to  forget  him.  Indeed,  in  every  stage 
of  life  as  well  as  this,  the  cares  and  pleasures  of  the 
world  too  often  engross  our  chief  attention,  and  banish 
for  a  while  the  remembrance  of  our  Maker.  But  it  is 
in  youth  only  we  seem  to  be  sunk  in  a  total  forget- 
fulness  of  Religion,  and  "  to  have  not  God  in  all  our 
"thoughts."  In  a  more  advanced  age,  reason  becomes 
so  strong,  or  appetite  so  weak,  that  even  in  the  busiest 
and  the  gayest  scenes,  we  must  have  some  intervals  of 
thinking,  we  must  have  our  solitary  and  serious  mo- 
ments, in  which  the  idea  of  a  God  will  recur  and  force 
itself  upon  our  minds.  The  calamities  and  disappoint- 
ments which  we  meet  with,  as  we  travel  forwards  in 
this  vale  of  tears,  the  loss  of  friends  or  of  fortune,  acute 
pains,  and  lingering  diseases,  are  so  many  awakening 
instances  of  our  weakness  and  dependence,  and  compel 
us,  in  spite  of  indolence  or  pride,  to  look  up  to  Hea- 
ven, and  our  Father  that  is  in  Heaven,  for  assistance 
and  protection.  But  in  youth,  these  faithful  monitors 
are  wanting  ;  there  are,  then,  generally  speaking,  no 
cares  or  afflictions  to  remind  us  of  our  Creator,  and 
bring  us  to  a  just  sense  of  our  duty.  The  novelty  of 
the  objects  that  successively  surround  us  at  our  first 
entrance  into  life,  supplies  us  with  a  perpetual  fund  of 


SERMON  XXVI.  335 

CTitertainment  ;  and  an  uninterrupted  fio\v'  of  health  and 
spirits  *'  fills  our  mouth  with  laughter,  and  our  tongue 
•' with  joy."  We  find  ourselves  happy,  and  consider 
not  who  it  was  that  made  us  so  ;  we  find  ourselves  in  a 
wide  theatre  of  action,  and  without  thinking  how  we 
are  to  perform  our  respective  parts  upon  it,  survey  with 
rapture  those  enchanting  scenes  that  every  where  open 
to  our  view,  and  launch  out  in  pursuit  of  the  pleasures 
that  are  before  us  with  so  much  eagerness  and  prccipi- 
tation,  as  to  leave  no  time  either  to  trace  them  back- 
wards  to  their  source,  or  forwards  to  their  consequences. 
From  these  false  steps  in  our  setting  cut,  flow  most  of 
the  fatal  errors  and  miscarriages  of  our  future  conduct; 
and  for  want  of  a  little  recollection  when  we  are  young, 
we  too  often  lay  up  a  store  of  misery  for  the  remaining 
part  of  our  existence  here,  and  for  all  eternity  here- 
after. 

Since,  then,  in  our  early  years,  we  are  for  the  most  part 
destitute  of  those  useful  mementos,  and  those  favorable 
seasons  of  recollection,  ^hich  occur  so  often  in  the 
other  parts  of  life;  and  are,  therefore,  more  particular- 
ly prone  to  forget  our  Maker  at  a  time  when  it  least 
becomes  us  so  to  do,  the  admonition  contained  in  the 
text  must  seem  highly  proper,  and  cannot  be  too  often 
inculcated,  in  orcler  to  supply,  in  some  measure,  that 
unhappy  insensibility,  that  inattention  to  every  thing 
serious  and  religious,  which  is  so  generally  observable, 
and  so  much  complained  of,   in  youth. 

No  man  could  be  more  sensible  of  this,  or  more 
seriously  lament  it,  than  the  royal  preacher  from 
whom  these  words  are  taken.  He  saw  a  melancholy 
instance  of  it  in  the  conduct  of  his  own  son,  who 
bei'-an  now  probably  to  give  some  indications  of  that 
fiery  and  ungovernable  temper,  which  afterwards 
proved  so  fatal  to  himself,  and  to  his  kingdom. 
He,  therefore,  urges  the  necessity  of  remembering 
God  in  our  youth,  not  only  with  ail  the  authority  of  an 
experienced  sage,  and  an  inspired  writer  but  v^  ith  all 
the'  tenderness  of  a  parent  solicitous  for  the  welfare  and 
prosperity  of  his  child. 


556  SERMON  XXVI. 

And  this  may,  perhaps,  be  one  reason  of  those  fre- 
quent and  pressing  exhortations  to  an  early  piety, 
which  are  every  where  scattered  up  and  doAvn  in  his 
writings.  They  had,  however,  no  doubt,  a  view  to 
the  depravity  of  youth  in  general,  as  well  as  of  Reho- 
boam  in  particular  ;  and  as  we  may,  I  think,  venture 
to  say,  that  there  is  at  least  as  much  occasion  for  a  re- 
peated injunction  of  this  duty  in  the  present  times,  as  in 
the  days  of  Solomon,  it  shall  be  the  business  of  this  dis- 
course to  recommend  and  enforce  an  early  piety,  by 
showing,  first,  the  reasonableness  and  propriety  of  it  j 
and,  secondly,  by  pointing  out  some  of  the  principal 
advantages  which  vvill  attend  the  practice  of  it. 

I.  First,  then,  I  am  to  show  the  reasonableness  and 
propriety  of  remembering  our  Creator  in  the  days  of 
our  youth. 

And  here  it  is  evident,  that  by  remembering  our 
Creator,  we  are  not  merely  to  understand  a  habit  of  re- 
calling the  bare  idea  of  him  to  our  mind,  or  a  cold, 
lifeless  contemplation  of  his  existence,  but  such  a  fer- 
vent, affectionate,  grateful  remembrance,  as  is  some- 
times kindled  in  our  breasts  by  thinking  on  an  absent 
or  a  departed  friend,  when  every  tender  circumstance  of 
that  endearing  connection  rushes  in  upon  the  soul,  and 
all  his  friendly  offices,  all  the  pleasing  instances  of  his 
love  and  kindness  towards  us,  present  themselves  at 
once  to  our  view.  We  must  not  only  remember  that 
he  is,  but  that  he  is  our  Creator,  and  that  with  all  those 
sentiments  of  piety  and  love,  which  such  a  relation  na- 
turally suggests.  We  must  remember  that  he  gave  us 
life  and  all  its  blessings,  all  that  we  actually  enjoy  here  or 
hope  to  enjoy  hereafter  ;  and  we  must  show  the  reality 
of  this  remembrance  by  making  a  suitable  return  for 
such  invaluable  favors.  For  even  in  the  m(>st  familiar 
forms  of  speaking,  to  remember  a  kindness  is  to  re- 
quite it ;  and  the  only  return  that  a  creature  can  make 
to  his  Creator,  is  an  uniform  obedience  to  his  will,  and 
a  punctual  observance  of  all  his  kins.  But  that  v.hich 
the  text  more  particularly  recommends  to  the  young 
man,  is  the  remembrance  of  Gck.1  as  bis  Creator,  rot 


SEnMON  XXVI.  337 

bnly  because  the  communication  of  existence  of  course 
includes  every  other  blessing,  but  because  this  considera- 
tion is  more  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  circumstances  of 
those  to  whom  the  precept  is  addressed.  For  if  even 
when  life  is  become  familiar  to  us,  ^vhen  we  have  tasted 
its  sorrows  as  Avell  as  its  joys,  the  remembrance  of  our 
Creator  is  yet  apt  sometimes  to  excite  the  warmest  re- 
turns of  gratitude  and  devotion,  how  ought  this  reflection 
to  work  on  the  hearts  of  those  who  are,-as  it  were,  fresh 
from  the  hands  of  their  Maker,  and  unacquainted  with 
every  thing  in  life  but  its  blessings  ?  How  can  the 
young  man  forbear  breaking  out  with  the' royal  psalm- 
ist into  that  passionate  overflowing  of  a  grateful  heart ; 
*'  Praise  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  all  that  is  within 
"  me  praise  his  holy  name.  Praise  the  Lord,  O  my 
*'  soul,  and  forget  not  all  his  benefits  :  who  forgi- 
*'  veth  all  thy  sins,  and  healeth  all  thine  infirmities  ; 
*'  who  saveth  thy  life  from  destruction,  ,and  crowneth 
"  thee  with  mercy  and  loving  kindness  ;  who  satisfieth 
*'  thy  mouth  with  good  things,  making  thee  young  and 
"  lusty  as  an  eagle*."  One  would  imagine,  indeed, 
that  instead  of  thinking  it  could  ever  be  too  soon,  men 
should  rather  fear  it  would  be  always  full  late,  to  remem- 
ber their  Creator,  and  that  life  itself  would  be  short 
enough  for  making  returns  to  his  unbounded  mercies. 
Yet  such  is  the  strange  perverseness,  shall  I  call  it,  or 
thoughdessness  of  youth,  that  the  goodness  of  God  gen- 
erally produces  a  quite  contrary  effect  ;  and  that  profu- 
sion of  happiness,  which  ought  t6  bind  them  for  ever  to 
his  service,  is  the  very  thing  that  supplants  him  in  their 
affections,  and  banishes  the  remembrance  of  him  from 
their  minds.  Their  pleasures  and  pursuits  follow  so 
close  upon  one  another,  as  to  leave  no  room  for  any  se- 
rious reflections  to  intervene  ;  or  if,  by  chance,  any 
religious  thought  intrude  upon  the  series  of  their  joys, 
they  instantly  dismiss  the  unbidden,  unwelcome  guest, 
with  the  answer  of  Felix  to  Paul ;  "  Go  thy  way  for 
*'  this  time,  when  we  have  a  convenient  season  we  will 
**  send  for  thee."  But  let  not  the  young  man  flatter  him- 

•  Psalm  ciii.  1,  2,  3,  4.  5. 

T  t 


S38  SERMON  XXVL 

self  that  any  season  is  so  convenient  as  the  present,  of 
that  God  will  be  content  with  the  dregs  of  life,  and  the 
refuse  of  his  years  ;  let  him  not  foolishly  imagine,  that 
after  having  spent  his  best  days  in  the  service  of  sin, 
the  wretched  remains  of  them  are  an  offering  fit  for 
his  Creator  ;  or  that  a  soul  polluted  with  guilt,  and  a 
body  emaciated  with  disease,  will  be  accepted  at  the  al- 
tar of  the  Almighty.  No  ;  he  demands  the  first  and 
foirest  of  all  our  days,  the  first  and  purest  motions  of  the 
heart ;  the  first  fruits  "  of  that  vineyard  which  his 
*'  right  hand  hath  planted,  and  of  the  branch  that  he 
*'  made  so  sti*ongfor  himself*." 

It  can  be,  indeed,  but  little  proof  of  our  loyalty  not 
to  rebel  against  our  Sovereign,  when  we  have  not 
strength  to  take  up  arms,  and  there  are  no  temptations 
to  make  us  swerve  from  our  allegiance  ;  but  if,  when 
we  are  in  our  full  strength  and  vigor  ;  when  the  danger 
is  near,  and  the  enemy  at  the  gate,  trying  every  method 
to  subdue  our  virtue,  and  corrupt  our  fidelity  ;  if  we 
then  withstand  in  the  evil  day,  reject  his  offers,  re- 
pel his  violence,  elude  his  stratagems,  and  baffle 
all  his  attempts,  we  shall  then,  indeed,  show  ourselves 
good  subjects  and  faithful  soldiers  of  our  heavenly 
Master  ;  we  shall  have  fought  the  good  fight  of  faith ^ 
and  v/hen  death  shall  release  us  from  our  station, 
may  humbly  hope  to  receive,  through  the  merits  of  our 
Redeemer,  the  wages  of  our  Christian  warfare  ;  not 
those  perishable  crowns,  and  that  visionary  immortali- 
ty, which  are  the  poor  rewards  of  earthly  heroes,  but  a 
crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not  away,  a  real  immortality 
of  happiness  in  Heaven. 

But  this  consideration  more  properly  belongs  to  the 
second  head,  under  which  I  proposed  to  consider  some 
of  the  principal  advantages  arising  from  a  course  of 
early  piety. 

li.  And  first  ;  he  M'ho  remembers  his  Creator  in 
the  days  of  his  youth,  may  depend  upon  it,  that  his  Cre- 
ator will  not  forget  him  all  the  days  of  his  life.  A  reli- 
gious young  person  is  above  all  others,  peculiarly  ac- 

»  Piial.  Ixxx.  15. 


SERMON  XXVI.  539 

ceptable  to  the  Almighty  ;  an  object  upon  which  he 
looks  down  Avithaneyc  of  uncommon  favor  and  appro- 
bation. There  cannot,  indeed,  be  conceived  a  specta- 
cle more  great  and  lovely,  than  to  see  a  young  man 
struggling  with  the  temptations  of  the  world,  the  ty- 
ranny of  custom,  the  solicitations  of  evil  company,  and 
the  strength  of  evil  passions.  To  see  him  not  "  mean- 
"  ly  following  a  multitude  to  do  evil,"  but  bravely 
stemming  the  popular  torrent ;  and  whilst  those  around 
him  deviate  either  on  the  one  hand  into  the  beaten  road 
of  vice,  or  on  the  other  into  the  endless  mazes  of 
gaiety  and  folly  ;  to  see  him  left  standing  alone  with 
virtue  in  the  midst,  and  daring  to  be  singularly  good. 
To  see  the  >'igor  of  his  understanding  not  sunk  in  sen- 
suality, or  dissipated  in  trifles,  but  rising  to  the  noblest 
pursuits  after  truth  and  ^'irtue  ;  and  the  alacrity  of  his 
spirits  not  exhausted  in  the  wild  sallies  of  intemperate 
mirth,  in  ruining  his  own  and  others'  innocence,  and 
disturbing  the  peace  and  order  of  society  ;  but  exert- 
ing itself  in  the  most  lively  display  of  every  generous 
and  social  duty,  in  giving  life  to  his  devotions,  and 
achieving  the  conquest  over  his  passions.  To  see  him, 
in  short,  sacrificing  the  flower  of  his  days,  his  gaieties, 
his  pleasures,  and  diversions,  at  the  altar  of  his  Crea- 
tor ;  and  in  spite  of  the  impotent  wit  and  raillery  of  his 
gay  companions,  in  spite  of  all  the  obstructions  that  the 
wickedness  of  man,  or  the  deceitfulness  of  his  own 
heart,  can  throw  in  his  way,  steadily  and  resolutely  per- 
severing in  a  uniform  course  of  piety  and  virtue  to  die 
last. 

It  cannot  fail,  but  such  an  one  must,  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  things,  draw  down  upon  himself  the  choi- 
cest blessings  of  Heaven.  He  sets  out  in  life  with  fair- 
er prospects  and  greater  advantag;es  than  all  liis  rival 
contemporaries,  with  tlie  blessing  of  God  upon  all  his 
undertakings,  and  a  moral  assurance,  that  whatsoever 
he  doeth,  it  shall  prosper.  And  it  must  surely  be  a 
most  comfortable  reflection  to  him,  that  "  he  thus 
."  grows  under  the  defence  of  the  Most  High,  and 
**  flourishes  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty."     It 


34Q  SERMON  XXVI. 

must  give  life  to  all  his  designs,  inspire  him  with  a 
manly  fortitude  in  all  his  resolutions,  and  diffuse  an 
even  cheerfulness  and  composure  through  his  whole 
deportment,  whilst,  like  his  blessed  Master  in  the 
same  period  of  life,  "  he  grows  in  stature  and  in  wis- 
*'  dom,  and  in  flivor  with  Gotl  and  man*-." 

2.  By  remembering  God  in  our  youth,  we  save  the 
pains  of  recollecting  him  in  old  age,  "  when  the  evil 
"days  come,"  (as  come  they  assuredly  will)  "in 
*'  which  we  shall  say,  we  have  no  pleasure  in  them.'* 
If  religion  is  a  lesson  we  must  some  time  or  other 
learn,  we  cannot  begin  too  soon.  It  is  not  a  thing  to 
be  taken  up  at  our  leisure,  a  work  to  be  done  when  we 
have  nothing  else  to  do  ;  but  will  find  full  employment 
for  all  the  time  and  pains  we^  can  bestow  upon  it. 
Youth  is  the  time  when  the  seeds  of  every  Christian 
grace  and  virtue  are  to  be  sown  in  our  hearts.  If  we 
neglect  this  favorable  season,  and  suffer  the  tares  to 
spring  up  in  their  room,  we  shall  not  only  have  the 
painful  task  of  implanting  new  affections  and  new  de- 
sires in  a  worn-out  soil,  but  of  eradicating  the  old 
ones ;  and  that,  too,  when  they  have  grown  up  with 
us  so  long,  and  are  so  interwoven  with  our  very  con- 
stitutions, that  to  rend  them  away  from  the  soul,  will 
be  like  plucking  out  an  eye,  or  tearing  off  a  limb  from 
the  body.  The  Scriptures  have  labored  to  express,  i|i 
the  strongest  terms,  t'^e  extreme  difficulty  of  such  an 
undertakinQ-,  and  made  use  ot"  the  boldest  figures  to 
in^press  a  deep  sense  of  it  upon  our  minds.  They 
call  such  a  reformation  in  an  advanced  age,  "  beco- 
*'  ming  a  new  creature,  putting  off  the  old  man  and  put- 
*'  ting  on  the  new,"  and  compare  it  to  "  the  leopard 
"  changing  its  spots,  and  the  Ethiopian  his  skinf." 
Indeed  the  great  hardship  of  the  task  may  well  justify 
such  expressions ;,  and  if  any  one  considers  what 
pains  it  costs  him  to  wean  himself  even  from  the  most 
whimsical  and  trifling  customs  which  he  has  accident- 
ally acquired  and  long  indulged,  he  will  easily  con- 
ceive what  inward  pangs  and  agonies  he  must  undergo, 

*  Luke  ii.  52.        t  2  Cor.  v.  17.     Ephes.  iv.  22.  24.    Jer.  xiii.  23- 


SERMON  XXVI.  341 

before  he  can  entirely  eradicate  habits  that  are  grafted 
on  the  strongest  natural  desires ;  and  effect  such  a  to- 
tal change  in  the  whole  frame  and  temper,  in  the  color 
and  complexion  of  his  mind,  as  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  render  his  reformation  effectual. 

We  are  told,  indeed,  in  Scripture,  that  "  the  ways 
*'  of  Religion  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  that  all  her 
*'  paths  are  peace  ;"  and  so  they  most  certainly  are  ; 
but  it  is  to  those  only  who  have  been  accustomed  to 
walk  in  them  from  their  youth  up.  The  gate  that 
leadeth  to  this  way  is  narrow  and  strait,  and  the  road,  at 
first,  so  rugged  and  uneven,  that  if  we  do  not  enter 
upon  it  till  "  the  day  is  far  spent,  and  the  night  draweth 
*'  on,"  we  shall  neither  have  time  nor  strength  to  sur- 
mount the  many  obstacles  we  shall  meet  with.  But  if 
the  young  man  sets  out  in  the  morning  of  life,  the 
freshness  of  his  strength  and  spirits,  aided  by  the  in- 
iluences  of  divine  grace,  M'ill  carry  him  through  every 
difficulty.  As  he  advances  forwards,  his  toil  grows 
less ;  the  asperities  of  the  way  gradually  disappear ; 
the  path  grows  w  ider,  and  the  prospect  opens,  till  he 
sees  at  last,  with  the  eye  of  faith,  that  land  of  promise 
to  which  he  hastens ;  a  sight  that  cheers  and  revives 
him  ;  when  after  the  labors  of  his  journey,  his  soul 
begins  to  faint  within  him.  And  this  suggests  to  us 
a  third  advantage  resulting  from  an  early  sense  of  Re- 
ligion, namely,  the  satisfaction  and  comfort  it  will  af- 
ford us  on  the  bed  of  death. 

3.  However  the  young  libertine  may  now^  boast  him- 
self, and  triumph  in  his  impiety,  and  laugh  at  the  scru- 
pulous timidity  of  those  who  deny  themselves  a  tliou- 
sand  pleasures,  which  he  boldly  snatches  without  hesi- 
tation or  remorse,  yet  there  will  come  a  time,  and  God 
knows  how  soon  it  may  come,  when  his  heart  will  quake 
for  fear,  when  he  will  believe  and  tremble.  Nor  must 
he  vainly  flatter  himself  that  the  evil  day  is  far  off,  or 
that  when  it  does  come,  he  shall  face  it  with  the  same 
steadiness  and  intrepidity  with  which  he  now  affronts 
his  Maker.  For  whilst  he  sees  "  thousands  even  of 
>'  his  own  age,  fall  beside  him,  and  ten  thousand  at  his 


342  SERMON  XXVI. 

"  right  hand,"  how  can  he  be  sure  that  the  danger  will 
not  come  nigh  him,  especially  as  he  takes  the  surest 
method  to  bring  it  near  him,  ;ind  to  quicken  the  pace 
of  death  by  his  intemperance.  It  must,  however,  at 
last  overtake  him  ;  and  when  it  does,  all  his  vaunted 
courage  will  at  once  desert  him.  The  stoutest  hearts 
will  fail,  and  the  fiercest  spirits  will  be  broken^ when 
that  dreadful  day  arrives.  Our  own  history,  and  that 
of  other  nations,  will  furnish  us  with  abundant  instan- 
ces, where  the  boldest  chiefs  in  iniquity,  who  have  glo- 
ried in  the  most  open  and  avowed  contempt  of  Reli- 
gion, have  yet  been  so  utterly  dismayed  at  the  approach 
of  death,  as  to  sink  into  the  most  abject  superstition 
and  unmanly  complaints.  It  is  not  that  enterprizing 
spirit  which  carries  a  man  so  successfully  through  this 
■\vorld,  that  will  avail  him  in  his  entrance  on  the  next. 
Nothing  can  then  support  him  amidst  the  terrors  of 
dissolution,  and  the  pangs  of  parting  with  all  that  is 
dear  and  near  to  him,  but  the  reflection  on  a  well- spent 
life  ;  and  as  we  shall  stand  in  need  of  every  possible 
increase  of  comfort,  we  ought  to  sweeten  this  reflection 
all  we  can,  by  beginning  early  to  remember  God,  For 
we  must  not  imagine,  what  some  are  willing  to  per- 
suade themselves,  that  a  death-bed  repentance  will  have 
the  same  effect  upon  our  minds  in  our  last  moments, 
as  a  life  of  early  piety  or  early  repentance.  They  who 
think  so,  show  themselves  to  be  utter  strangers  to  the 
real  situation  of  a  dying  man.  They  know  not  the 
terror  and  amazement,  the  fears  and  apprehensions,  of 
a  soul  that  stands  tremblins;  on  the  brink  of  eternity, 
and  whose  salvation  depends  on  a  death-bed  repentance. 
He  fears,  he  knows  not  what,  about  the  sincerity  of 
that  repentance ;  he  fears  his  contrition  may  not  have 
been  deep  enough,  his  amendment  not  complete  ;  that 
some  crimes  may  not  have  appeared  to  him  in  their 
full  guilt  and  baseness,  and  some  may  have  entirely  es- 
caped his  search.  He  enhances  every  real  danger,  and 
creates  to  himself  a  thousand  more  ;  and  whatever  may 
be  the  eflicacy  of  that  repentance,  with  regard  to  his 
future  co:idition,  it  cannot  in  Mi's  present  yield  him  that 


SERMON  XXVI.  343 

comfortable  hope,  that  humble  conficlcnce  in  the  me- 
rits of  his  Redeemer,  which  is  absoliltely  necessary  to 
the  quiet  of  the  mind,  in  so  interesting  a  point.  This 
can  only  be  the  result  of  a  life,  in  which,  upon  the  most 
important  review,  there  appears  nothing  to  lument  but 
those  frailties  and  infirmities  \;  hich  man  cannot  but 
sometimes  fall  into,  and  which  God,  through  the  me- 
diation and  death  of  Christ,  has  most  graciously  pro- 
mised to  forgive.  And  in  this  review,  the  further  we 
can  cast  our  eyes  backwards  on  our  sincere,  though 
imperfect  endeavors  after  holiness,  and  the  nearer  we 
can  trace  up  the  beginning  of  our  religious  obedience 
to  the  beginning  of  life,  the  more  pleasing  will  be  the 
retrospect,  the  more  unallajed  our  satisfaction.  Every 
impulse  of  passion  we  have  subdued,  every  tem.ptatiou 
we  have  resisted  or  escaped,  every  evil  thought  we 
have  restrained,  and  every  good  one  we  have  encoura- 
ged, will  then  each  rise  up  to  befriend  us,  and  speak 
peace  to  our  affrighted  souls.  And  though  the  reli- 
gious young  man  may  now,  perhaps,  complain  of  the 
difficulties  he  hath  to  struggle  with,  yet  let  him  remem- 
ber, that  the  bitterer  his  present  sensations  are,  the 
more  joyful  will  be  his  reflections  at  that  momentous 
period.  It  is  then,  in  short,  and  only  then,  we  see  the 
true  difference  between  hiih  that  serveth  God  in  his 
youth,  and  him  that  serveth  him  not ;  and  whoever 
compares  their  different  circumstances  and  behavior  on 
that  trying  occasion,  will  most  sincerely  >wish  "  that 
*'  he  may  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  that  his 
*'  latter  end  may  be  like  his."  But  let  us  remember, 
that  it  is  not  a  mere  inactive  ivisb  alone  that  can  pro- 
cure us  this  inestimable  blessing ;  let  us  remember, 
that  if  we  would  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  we  must 
seriously  resolve  and  endeavor  from  our  youth  up,  to 
live  his  life,  and  that  the  best  preparation  for  a  latter 
end  like  his,  will  be  to  take  care  that  our  early  years  be 
like  his  also. 


SERMON  XXVII, 


1  Kings  xviii.  21, 

Jnd  Elijah  came  unto  all  the  people^  and  said,  How  long  halt  ijr 
between  two  ojiivions  ?  If  the  Lord  be  God,  follow  him  ;  hut 
if  Baal,  then  follow  him. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  many  expres,s  com- 
mands  given  to  the  Jews  to  worship  the  one  only 
true  God,  and  the  many  admirable  provisions  mflde  in 
their  law  to  preserve  them  from  the  adoration  of  any 
other;  yet  it  is  notorious,  that  from  the  time  of  their  lea- 
ving Egypt,  down  to  the  Babylonish  captivity,  they  were 
frequently  falling  into  idolatry.  It  must  be  observed, 
however,  that  this  idolatryof  theirs,  wicked  and  inex- 
cusable as  it  undoubtedly  was,  did  not  consist  in  abso- 
lutely renouncing  the  worship  of  the  true  God,  but  in 
joining  with  it  the  worship  of  false  gods.  This  they 
did  in  imitation  of  the  heathen  nations  around  them, 
who,  like  all  other  pagans,  though  they  had  each  their 
peculiar  tutelary  deities,  yet  made  no  scruple  of  asso- 
ciating those  of  any  other  people  along  with  them.  In 
conformity  to  which  accommodating  temper,  the  Jews 
themselves  probably  considering  the  God  of  Israel  as 
their  national  God,  imagined  that  their  allegiance  to 
him  was  not  violated  by  admitting  other  local  deities 
to  a  share  in  his  worship.  It  was  this  absurd  and  im- 
pious custom  of  joining  the  adoration  of  idols  to  that  of 
the  true  God,  against  which  we  find  so  many  precepts 
and  exhortations  in  the  Old  Testament  directed,  and 


SERMON  XXVII.  345 

such  severe  punishments  denounced.     And  in  opposi- 
tion to  this  strange  practice  it  was,  that  Ehjah  proposes 
to  the  idolatrous  ^Vhab  and  his  people,  an  effectual  me- 
thod of  deciding  which  was  the  true  God,  Jehovah  or 
Baal ;   and  he  introduces  his  proposal  a\  ith  that  spirited 
expostulation,   contained    in  the   words  of  the   text. 
"  How  long  halt  ye  between  two  opinions  ?  If  the  Lord 
"  be  God,  follow  him  ;  but  if  Baal,  then  follow  him." 
This  was  in  effect,  saying.  How  long  will  ye  act  this 
base  disiTigenuous   part,  of  attempting  to   serve  two 
masters,  and  to  worship  at  once  both  the  Lord  and 
Baal  ?   The  Lord  is  a  jealous  God,    He  demands  your 
whole  affection.     He  will  not  be  served  by  halves  ;  he 
will  not  accept  of  a  divided  empire  with  Baal.     Chuse 
ye,  then,  whom  you  will  serve,  and  no  longer  halt  be- 
tween two  directly  opposite  and  inconsistent  opinions. 
If  you  are  persuaded  (and  never  had  any  people  more 
reason  to  be  persuaded)  that  the  Lord  Jehovah,  the  great 
Creator  of  Heaven  and  earth,  is  the  only  true  God,   act 
agreeably  to  such  persuasion.     Follow  him,  and  him 
only  ;  serve  him  sincerely,  uniformly,   and   entirely, ' 
with  all  your  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind,  and  strength  : 
and  live  a  life  of  virtue  and  holiness,  in  obedience  to  his 
commands.     But  if,  on  the  contrary,  you  can,   in  op- 
position to  the  plainest  and  strongest  evidence,  bring 
yourselves  seriously  to  believe  that  Baal  is  God,  follow 
him.     Follow  him  (if  your  nature  recoil  not  at   it) 
through  all  those  impure  and  detestable  practices  which 
his  ^vorship  authorizes  and  requires.     But  come  not 
thus  reeking  with  idolatry  to  the  altar  of  the  Lord. 
He  will  accept  of  no  sacrifices  from  such  polluted  hands. 
Baal  is  then  your  God,  and  you  are  his  people.     To 
him  alone  offer  up  your  vows  ;  from  him  only  expect 
the  supply  of  all  your  wants,  and  deliverance  from  all 
your  calamities. 

The  observation  naturally  arising  from  the  text  thus 
explained,  is  this  :  That  as  God  would  not  allow  a  par- 
tial worship  under  the  Mosaic  dispensation,  neither  will 
he  admit  of  partial  faith,  and  parlial  obedience,  un- 
der the  Christian   covenant. 

Uu 


346  SERMON  XXVII. 

He  w]io  was  the  God  of  the  Jews,  is  also  the  God  of 
the  Christians  ;  has  from  the  same  invariable  pre  emi- 
nence of  his  divine  nature,  the  same  claim  to  our  entire 
and  unreserved  submission  to  his  will,  is  equally  jea- 
lous of  his  own  glory  and  of  our  allegiance,  and  equally 
averse  to  any  rival  in  our  affections,  and  our  services. 
It  was  the  duty  of  the  Jew  to  believe  and  obey  the 
whole  law  of  Moses.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  Christian 
to  believe  and  obey  the  whole  law  of  Christ.  In  op- 
position to  the  doctrines  and  duties  of  the  Mosaic  law, 
stood  the  extravagant  conceits  of  Gentile  theology,  and 
the  execrable  impurities  and  barbarities  of  idolatrous 
worship.  In  opposition  to  the  doctrines  and  duties  of 
the  Gospel,  stand  the  fanciful  refinements  of  modern 
philosophy,  and  the  allurements  of  a  sinful  world,  which 
are  now  too  frequently  distracting  the  belief,  and  di- 
viding the  obedience  of  Christians,  as  superstition  and 
idolatry  did  formerly  those  of  the  Jews.  And  it  is  no 
more  allowable  to  halt  in  our  belief  between  deism  and 
revelation,  and  in  our  practice  betv/een  God  and" Mam- 
mon, than  it  was  in  the  Jews  formerly  to  foliov/  at 
once  both  the  Lord  and^  Eaa.L  The  text,  therefore, 
when  divested  of  all  peculiarity  of  circumstance,  and 
brought  home  to  ourselves,  affords  this  general  and  use- 
ful principle,  that  we  should  not  v,'aver  between  two 
systems,  and  endeavor  to  serve  at  the  same  time  two 
masters ;  but  entirely  devote  ourselvqs  either  to  the 
one  or  the  other,  and  stand  to  all  the  consequences  of 
our  choice.  This  admonition  seems  not  improperly 
calculated  for  the  state  of  Religion  among  ourselves  at 
this  day,  and  may  be  applied  Vvith  equal  justice  both  to 
our  faith  and  practice. 

But  I  shall,  in  this  discourse,  confine  my  obser- 
vations almost  entirely  to  the  latter,  as  being  the  most 
useful,  and  the  best  suited  to  the  business  of  this  place. 
For  although  much  might  be  said  respecting  strange 
conceits  in  matters  of  faith ;  although  there  are,  it  is 
well  known,  in  this  cormtry,  as  well  as  in  others,  a  few 
individuals  who  think  themselves  at  liberty  to  select  out 
of  the  Gospel,  fur  their  creed,  just  what  happens  to 


SERMON  XXVir.  347 

suit  their  particular  humor  or  cr,pricc,  and  to  reject  all 
the  rest,  and  may  therefore  very  justly  be  said  to  "  halt 
*'  between  two  opinions  ;"  yet  the  number  of  these  per- 
sons is  so  inconsiderable,  and  the  reception  their  te- 
nets meet  with  is  so  very  unpromisini^,  tiiat  to  bestow 
much  of  our  attention  upon  them,  \\ould  be  a  very 
needless  waste  of  time.  Much  less  can  it  be  necessary 
to  enter  here  into  any  confutation  of  their  fanciful  opi- 
nions. They  have  been  confuted,  most  effectually 
confuted,  above  seventeen  hundred  years  as^o,  and  that, 
too,  by  a  book  whicli  is,  or  ought  to  be,  in  the  hands  of 
every  Christian  ;  1  mean  the  Bible:  •  Every  page  of 
that  sacred  voUime  bears  testimony,  against  them  ;  and 
it  is  utterly  impossible  for  any  man  of  a  plain  under- 
standing, and  of  an  unprejudiced  mind,  to  look  into 
the  Gospel  without  perceiving,  that  all  those  great  and 
important  doctrines,  wliich  our  philosophic  Christians 
are  pleased  to  reject  (and  which,  in  fact,  amount  to  al- 
most every  peculiar  doctrine  of  the  Gospel,  except 
tliat  of  tlie  resurrection)  arc  taught  and  repeatedly  in- 
culcated in  the  sacred  ^vritings,  in  terms  as  clear,  ex- 
plicit, and  unequivocal,  as  it  is  in  the  power  of  language 
to  express.  They  are,  in  fact,  so  interwoven  with  the 
very  frame  and  constitution,  with  the  entire  substance 
and  essence  of  Christianity,  that  they  must  stand  or 
fall  together.  They  are  found  in  the  same  Gospel, 
and  are  intimately  blended  and  incorporated  with  those 
moral  precepts,  and  those  evidences  of  a  resurrection 
and  a  future  state,  which  are  on  all  sides  allowed  to  be 
divine  ;  and  there  is  no  such  thing  as  separating  them 
from  each  other,  no  such  thing  as  dissolving  the  con- 
nection between  them,  witiiout  undermining  the  whole 
fabric  of  Christianity,  and  defeating  the  chief  purposes 
for  which  Christ  came  into  the    world. 

Let  no  one,  then,  that  professes  himself  a  disciple 
of  Christ,  ever  be  induced  to  fluctuate  thus  between 
two  systems.  Let  him  never  listen  to  any  such  de- 
ceitful terms  of  accommodation  with  "the vain  phi- 
"  losophy  of  this  world,"  nor  suffer  himself  to  be  led 
?.way  by  "  the  delusions  of  science,  falsely  so  called." 


348  SEKMON  XXVII, 

i;et  him  never  consent  to  maim  and  mutilate  that  com^ 
-plete  and  perfect  body  of  Christian  doctrine,  which 
*'  is  so  fitly  framed  together,  and  compacted  by  that 
*'  which  every  joint  suppheth,"  that  to  take  away  any 
one  member,  is  to  destroy  the  beauty,  strength,  and 
stabihty  of  the  whole. 

Thus  much  may  suffice  at  present  for  those  who,  in 
■the  language  of  the  text,  may  be  said  to  halt  between 
(%vo  opinions,  between  the  Religion  of  nature  and  the 
Religion  of  Christ.  I  now  hasten  to  that  which  is  the 
principal  object  of  this  discourse,  the  j&r^c^/V/]:/ incon- 
sistencies with  which  some  men  are  chargeable.  For, 
among  the  professors  of  our  faith,  there  are  too  many 
who,  though  their  speculative  opinions  may  be  right 
»nd  uniform,  yet  in  their  practice  halt  between  two 
opposite  modes  of  conduct,  and  endeavor  to  serve  at 
the  same  time  two  masters,  God  and  Mammon. 

Isay  nothing  here  of  those  who  are  professedly 
men  of  the  world,  who  disclaim  all  belief  in  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Gospel,  and  all  obedience  to  its  laws. 
These  men  have  taken  their  part,  have  adopted  a  sys- 
tem. A  miserable  one,  indeed,  it  is  ;  but  it  is,  how- 
ever, a  decided  one ;  and  whatever  other  guilt  they 
may  be  chargeable  with,  inconsistence  certainly  is  not 
one  of  their  faults, 

In  this  respect  the  children  of  this  world  are  in  their 
generation  commonly  wiser  than  the  children  of  light, 
among  whom,  unfortunately,  the  same  undeviating 
uniformity  of  conduct  is  not  often  to  be  found.  Of 
those  who  acknowledge  Christ  to  be  their  lord  and  mas- 
ter, how  few  are  there  that  adhere  to  him  invariably 
throughout,  without  ever  revolting  from  their  allegi- 
ance, and  devoting  themselves  to  another  sovereign, 
*'  the  prince  of  this  world  !" 

One  man  finding  it  said  in  Scripture,  that  charity 
shall  cover  a  multitude  of  sins,  without  ever  once  gi- 
ving himself  the  trouble  to  examine  into  the  true 
meaning  of  that  doubtful  expression,  takes  refuge  un- 
der the  letter  of  it,  and  on  the  strength  of  a  little  osten- 
tatious generosity,    indulges  every   irregular  passion 


SERMON  XXVIT.  349 

ivithout  control,  and  fancies  himself  all  the  while  a  seri- 
ous sober  Christian. 

A  second,  rather  shocked  at  this,  keeps  clear  of  all 
gross  and  flagrant  enormities  ;  but  hopes  that  a  few  se- 
cret and  less  presumptuous  sins  will  be  easily  forgiven 
him. 

A  third,  still  more  modest  and  more  scrupulous, 
contents  himself  u  ith  one  favorite  vice,  and  makes  not 
the  least  doubt  but  that  his  exact  observance  of  the  di- 
vine law,  in  other  respects,  will  amply  atone  for  his  fail- 
ure in  this  single  instance. 

A  fourth  advances  one  step  further  than  this  ;  he  in- 
dulges himself  in  no  gratification  that  seems  to  deserve 
the  name  of  sin  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  allows  the 
gaieties,  the  amusement,  the  business  or  the  cares  of 
life,  to  take  entire  possession  of  his  soul,  to  shut  out, 
in  a  great  measure,  all  thoughts  of  God  and  Religion, 
and  steal  away  his  affections  from  Heaven  and  heavenly 
things. 

Lasdv  ;  there  is  another  class  of  men  ^vho  are 
irreproachable  in  their  morals,  and  sufficiently  tempe- 
rate, perhaps,  in  their  pursuits  of  business  or  of  amuse- 
ment, but  yet  fall  short  of  that  steady  and  affectionate 
attachment  to  their  divine  Master,  which  his  Religion 
inculcates,  and  his  kindness  demands.  They  want 
that  zeal  and  fervor,  that  earnestness  and  activity  in  his 
service,  that  absolute  resignation  to  his  will,  that  per- 
fect confidence  in  his  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness, 
that  freedom  from  all  immoderate  anxiety  and  solici- 
tude, hope  or  fear,  exultation  or  disappointment  re- 
specting the  various  events  of  the  present  life,  which 
are  the  surest  and  most  unequivocal  proofs,  that  this 
world  has  little  or  no  share  in  our  affections,  but  that 
our  treasure  is  in  Heaven,  and  there  is  our  heart  also. 

Thus  it  is,  that  too  many  in  almost  every  denomina- 
tion of  professed  Christians  do,  in  one  way  or  another, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  '*  halt  between  two  oppo- 
"  site  rules  of  life,"  divide  their  attention  between  the 
commands  of  Christ,  and  the  criminal,  or  the  trifling 
enjoyments  of  the  present  scene,  endeavor  to  accom- 


.350  SERMON  XXVII. 

modate  matters  as  commodiously  as  possible,  between 
things  temporal  and  things  eternal  ;   and  to  take  as 
much  as  they  can   oF  this  world,  without  losing  their 
hold  on  the  rewards  of  the  next.     But  let  no  man  im- 
pose on  himself  with  these  delusive  imaginations.  Such 
duplicity  of  conduct  is  as  evidently  contrary  both  to 
the  letter  and  the  spirit  of  Christ's    Religion,   and  as 
justly  obnoxious  to  the  reproof  conveyed  in  the  text, 
as  the  fault  already  touched  upon  of  "  halting  between 
"  two  opinions."     Whoever  looks  into  the    Gospel, 
with  the  least  degree  of  attention,  must  see,  that  it  re- 
xjuires  us  to  give  up  our  whole  soul  to   God,   and  pay 
an  unreserved  and  undivided  obedience  to  all  his  com- 
mands.    The  language  of  Christianity  to  its  disciples 
is  like  that  of  Solomon  in  his  Proverbs,  "  My  son  give 
''  me  thine  heart*."    We  are  commanded  "  to  set  our 
*'  affections  on  things  above,  and  not  on  things  on   the 
*'  earth  :   to  have  our  conversation  in  Heaven  ;  to  love 
"  God  with  all  our  heart,    and    soul,   and  mind,  and 
*'  strength  ;  to  take  up  our  cross  and  follow  Christ ;  to 
"  leave  father,   mother,  brethren,  sisters,  houses  and 
"  lands,    for   his  name's  sake,   and   the  Gospel'sf." 
These,  and  such  like  expressions,  are,  it  is  well  known, 
perpetually  occurring  in  the  sacred  writings.     And  al- 
though ^ve  are  not  to  understand  them  so  literally,  and 
so  rigorously,   as  to  conceive  ourselves  obliged  to  re- 
nounce the  world  absolutely,  and   all   its  rational  and 
innocent  enjoyments,  to  retire  into  deserts  and  caves, 
and  think  of  nothing  but  the  concerns  of  eternity  ;  yet, 
if  we  allow  these  phrases  any  meaning,  they  cannot  im- 
ply less  than  this  ;   that  our  chief  and  principal  con- 
cern, beyond  all  comparison,  must  be  to  please    and 
obey  our  Maker  in  all  things  ;  that  we  must  seek  first 
the   kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness  ;   that  we 
must  look  up  to  his  law^  as  the  great  guide  and  govern- 
ing principle  of  our  lives  ;   that  we   must  not    vibrate 
perpetually  between  two  masters,  between  two  oppo- 
site modes  of  conduct,  between  vice   and  virtue,    be- 

*  Prov.  xxiii.  26. 
f  Col.  iii.  2.  Phil.  iii.  2\  Mark  xii.  30.  Matlh.  xvi.  24  xix.  29. 


SERMON  XXVir.  551 

tu'een  piety  and  pleasure,  between  inclination  and  duty, 
between  this  life  and  the  next ;  but  devote  ourselves 
heartily  and  sincerely  to  the  service  of  our  heavenly 
Father,  and  suffer  no  one  earthly  object  to  estrange  or 
draw  away  our  affections  from  him. 

The  only  way,  then,  for  a  wise  and  a  good  man  to 
take,  is  to  preserve  that  uniformity  and  consistence, 
and  dignity  of  character,  both  in  opinion  and  in  prac- 
tice, which  is  in  all  cases  respectable  ;  in  the  Christian 
Religion  essential  and  indispensable.  You  must,  in 
short,  as  Joshua  said  to  the  Jewish  people,  "  you  must 
"  chuse,  this  day,  whom  you  will  serve."  You  must 
take  your  part,  and  adhere  to  it  steadily  and  invariably 
throughout. 

If,  in  the  first  place,  with  respect  to  doctrines  and 
matters  of  belief,  you  think  that  you  are  innocent  and 
])erfect  creatures,  that  }  ou  stand  in  need  of  no  Re- 
deemer, no  Mediator,  no  expiation  for  your  past,  no 
assistance  for  your  future  conduct  ;  that  revelation  is 
needless,  and  reason  alone  sufficient  for  all  the  good 
purposes  of  this  life  and  the  next,  then  follow  reason, 
and  be  consistent  \\ith  yourselves.  Do  not  repose  the 
least  part  of  your  hopes  on  Christ.  You  have  nothing 
to  do  vv'ith  him  or  his  Gospel.  You  can  claim  nothing 
under  his  name  ;  by  your  ov\n  merits  you  must  stand 
or  fall  ;  must  go  boldly  and  with  confidence  up  to  the 
throne  of  God,  and  demand  from  his  justice,  as  a  matter 
of  right,  that  pardon  and  those  rewards  which  you  dis- 
dain to  receive  from  his  mercy  as  a  matter  of  grace. 
But  if  your  minds  revolt  against  such  presumption 
as  this;  if  you  feel  yourselves  corrupt  and  sinful,  the 
children  of  vanity  and  the  sport  of  passions,  continually 
transa:ressinG:  the  dictates  even  of  your  own  reason,  and 
of  course  continually  deserving  punishment  from  the 
Giver  of  that  reason  ;  if  you  find  that  something  more 
than  mere  modern  philosophy  is  necessary  to  heal  the 
depravity  of  your  nature,  to  reconcile  you  to  an  oiTend- 
cd  God,  to  assist  you  in  the  performance  of  your  duty, 
to  support  you  under  the  severest  afflictions,  and  to 
satisfy  the  cruvin'js  of  vour  soul  ^\  ith   that  fulness   of 


352  SERMON  XXVII. 

joy  which  the  world,  and  all  the  world's  wisdom,  can 
never  give  ;  if,  in  fine,  you  perceive  that  the  Gospel 
of  Christ  contains  every  thing  you  want,  and  that 
the  truth  of  its  pretensions  is  founded  on  such  sort  of 
evidence  as  no  man  upon  earth  was  ever  yet  deceived 
by  trusting  to  in  any  other  case,  then  follow  Christ ; 
take  him  for  your  only  guide  in  religious  knowledge,  and 
repose  an  entire  and  absolute  confidence  in  his  holy 
word.  When  once  you  are  persuaded  that  he  is  an 
inspired  teacher,  and  that  he  and  his  Religion  came 
from  God,  no  doctrines,  however  difficult  or  mysteri- 
ous, how  much  soever  they  transcend  reason,  if  not  re- 
pugnant to  it,  will  be  any  obstacles  in  your  way.  You 
will  receive  them  all  with  implicit  reverence  and  sub- 
mission, on  the  sole  ground  of  his  testimony.  The 
only  question  to  be  asked  respecting  such  doctrines  is 
this  :  Do  they  actually  exist  in  the  Gos.pel  ?  Is  there 
sufficient  evidence  for  the  authenticity  of  that  Gospel  ? 
If  there  be,  and  this  we  have  ail  along  supposed,  the 
dispute  is  decided,  and  you  can  no  longer  hesitate  re- 
specting the  admission  of  truths  grounded  on  such 
authority. 

In  the  same  manner,  with  respect  to  practice.  If 
you  admit  the  reality  of  a  future  existence,  and  a  fu- 
ture day  of  recompence,  and  if  after  deliberately  com- 
paring this  life  with  the  next,  you  do,  in  your  best  and 
soberest  judgment,  think  that  present  enjoyments  are 
more  valuable  than  future  and  eternal  happiness,  and  a 
little  self-denial  in  this  world  more  insupportable  than 
everlasting  misery  in  the  next,  then  let  this  world  be 
the  sole  idol  of  your  hearts  ;  to  this  devote  yourselves 
without  reserve.  It  would  then  be  folly  to  sacrifice  any 
pleasures,  any  advantages  to  the  commands  of  your 
Maker,  or  to  let  one  thought  about  futurity  disturb 
you.r  tranquillity,  or  interrupt  your  pursuits. 

But  if  you  find  this  to  be  impossible  ;  if  you  feel 
Yourselves  to  be  designed  for  immortalitv  ;  if  you  can- 
not  forbear  looking  perpetually  forward  into  futurity  ;  if 
to  these  sentiments  of  Nature,  Reason  adds  her  voice, 
and  l\e\  elation  confirms  it  bv  evidence  that  is  irresisti- 


SERMON  XXVir.  353 

blc  ;  if,  moreover,  on  a  fliir  estimate  of  the  respective 
value  of  things  temporal,  and  things  eternal,  you  are 
convinced  that  the  pains  and  the  pleasures  of  this  world 
are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  rewards  and 
punishments  of  the  next ;  if,  in  fine,  the  limited  na- 
ture of  the  human  faculties,  the  contrary  tempers  of 
mind,  and  courses  of  action,  which  contrary  pursuits 
require,  and  the  express  declarations  of  Christ  him- 
self, prove  incontestably  that  we  cannot  serve  God  and 
Mammon,  canfiot  reconcile  tvvo  opposite  modes  of 
conduct  together;  what,  then,  is  the  course  ^^hich  a 
prudent  and  considerate  man  has  to  take  ?  Why,  evi- 
dently, to  devote  himself  absolutely  and  entirely  to  the 
service  of  his  one  Lord  and  Master,  and  to  suffer 
nothing  to  interfere  with  that  great  object  of  his  atten- 
tion. If  there  really  is  a  future  scene  of  existence, 
and  if  the  rewards  promised  to  the  righteous,  and  the 
punishments  denounced  against  the  wicked,  are  as 
great  and  as  durable  as  they  are  represented  to  be, 
there  is  no  sacrifice  in  this  life  which  a  wise  man  would 
not  make  to  them.  If  they  are  worth  any  thing,  they 
are  worth  every  thing.  Be,  then,  not  only  almost,  but 
altogether  Christians.  Let  no  enticing  words  of  man's 
wisdom  put  you  out  of  conceit  with  the  divine  truths 
of  the  Gospel,  and  make  you  halt  between  two  opin- 
ions ;  let  no  one  favorite  vice,  no  worldly  pursuits,  no 
vain  amusements,  draw  you  off"  from  any  part  of  your 
duty,  and  divide  your  obedience  between  God  and  Ba- 
al. If  you  have  chosen  the  other  world  for  your  por- 
tion, cling  not  any  longer  fondly  to  this ;  if  you  have 
set  your  hand  to  the  plough,  look  not  back  to  the  vani- 
ties you  have  renounced.  Be  not  irresolute,  waver- 
ing, and  indecisive ;  be  not  governed  by  the  opinion 
of  the  day,  nor  the  temptation  of  the  moment.  Do 
not  so  divide  yourselves  between  two  masters,  as  to 
please  neither  the  one  nor  the  other ;  do  not  manage 
so  wretchedly  as  to  lose  at  once  what  little  this  world, 
has  to  give,  and  all  the  glorious  rewards  which  the 
other  holds  up  to  your  view.  "  Chirse  ye,  in  short, 
"  this  dav,  whom  ye  will  serve."     If  the  Lord  be 

Ww 


354  SERMON  XXVIL 

God,  and  not  Baal,  be  resolved  at  once ;  take  a  manly- 
and  a  decided  part ;  fix  your  affections  immoveably  on 
heavenly  things ;  pursue,  with  unremitting  attention, 
your  best  and  truest  interest ;  give  up  yourselves,  body 
and  soul,  into  the  hands  of  your  Maker,  and  persevere 
imiformly  in  his  service  to  the  end  of  your  lives  ;  that 
having  thus  finished  your  course,  and  kept  the  faith  to 
the  last,  you  may  receive  "  the  prize  of  your  high 
"  calling  in  Christ  Jesus ;  and  when  your  flesh  and 
*'  your  heart  shall  fail,  may  find  God  to  be  the  strength 
"  of  your  heart,  and  your  portion  for  ever." 


SERMON  XXVIII 


^ 


Psalm  xxii.  28. 

The  kingdom  is  the  Lord's,  and  he  is  the  governor  among  the  nations^ 

THE  doctrine  conveyed  to  us  in  these  words  is  that 
of  A  NATIONAL  PROVIDENCE  ;  and  it  is  a  doc- 
trine no  less  consonant  to  reason  than  consolatory  to 
the  human  mind.  It  must  therefore  aftbrd  us  the  high- 
est satisfaction,  to  find  this  truth  confirmed  by  the  sa- 
cred writers  in  the  clearest  and  the  strongest  terms. 
The  Scriptures  are  full  of  the  most  gracious  promises 
to  righteous  nations,  and  of  the.  most  dreadful  denuncia- 
tions against  wicked  and  impenitent  kingdoms ;  and  it 
is  well  known,  that  neidier  these  promises  nor  these 
threatenings  were  vain. .  The  history-  of.  the  Jewish 
people,  more  especially,  is  scarce  any  thing  else  than 
the  history  of  God's  providential  interposition  to  punish 
or  reward  them,  according  as  they  obeyed  or  disobey- 
ed his  laws.  And  althoufi-h  we  should  admit  that  on 
account  of  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  that  people, 
and  the  unexampled  form  of  their  theoretic  government, 
their  case  cannot  be  drawn  into  a  parallel  with  that 
of  other  nations,  yet  there  are  not  w  anting  some  which 
may.  Those  four  celebrated  empires  of  antiquity 
which  rose  up  one  after  another,  and  successively  filled 
the  world  with  astonishment  and  terror,  were  nothing 
more  than  mighty  engines  in  the  hand  of  God  to  exe- 
cute his  various  dispensations  of  mercy  or  of  justice  on 
the  Jewish  nation,  and  other  civil  communities  ;  and 

*  Preached  before  the  House  of  Lords,  Jiiauaiy  30^  1778. 


356  SERMON  XXVIII. 

to  prepare  the  way  gradually  for  the  introduction  of 
another  kingdom   of  a  very  different  nature,  and  su- 
perior to  them  all.     Their  rise  and  fall  were  predicted 
in  the  sacred  writings  long  before  they  existed*,  and 
those  extraordinary  personages,  Nebuchadnezzar,  Cy- 
rus, Alexander,  Augustus,  Vespasian,  and  I'itus,  were, 
though  unknown   to   themselves,    the  agents  of  the 
Almighty,   raised  up  at   certain  appointed  times,  and 
furnished  with  every  requisite  qualification  to    "  per- 
*'  form  all  his  pleasuref ,"  and  fulfil  his  views.     "  I  am 
■'the   Lord   that   maketh  all  things;   that   stretcheth 
"  forth  the  heavens  alone  ;  that  spreadeth   abroad   the 
*'  earth  by  myself;   that  frustrateth  the  tokens  of  the 
*'  lyars,  and  maketh  diviners  mad  ;  that  turneth  wise 
■ '  men  backward,  and  maketh  their  knowledge  foolish  ; 
*'  that  confirmeth  the  word   of  his  servant,   and    per- 
*' formeth  the  counsel  of  his  messengers.     I  form  the 
*'  light  and  create  darkness  ;  I  make  peace  and  create 
"  evil  :   I    THE    Lord    do   all    these    things|.'* 
Thus  we  see,  that  what  is  considered  as  the  common  vi- 
cissitude of  human  affairs,  peace  and  war,  pestilence  and 
famine,  political  changes   and  national  revolutions,  the 
passionsof  the  wicked,  the  machinations  of  the  crafty, 
the  virtues  of  the  good,  the  errors  of  the  weak,  the  pru- 
dence of  the  wise,  the  shining  qualities  of  the  great  ; 
every  thing,   in  short,  that  the  world   calls  accident, 
chance  and  fortune,  are  all,  in  fact,  under  the  control 
of  an  invisible  and  over-ruling  hand  ;    which,  without 
any  violation  of  the  lav/s  of  nature,  or  the   freedom  of 
human  actions,  renders  thcin   subservient  to  the  gra- 
cious purposes  of  divine  wisdom  in  the  government  of 
the  world. 

In  the  instance  above  adduced  of  the  four  great  mo- 
Tiarchies,  we  see  this  sublime  truth  exemplified  in  the 
most  striking  manner.  They  form  as  it  v/ere,  one 
vast  map  of  providential  administration,  delineated  on 
so  large  a  scale,  and  marked  with  such  legible  charac- 
ters, that  they  cannot  well  escape  our  notice.     But  al- 

•  Daniel  v'li.  and  viii.  f  Isaiah  xliv.  28. 

^  Isaiah  xliv.  24,  25,  26  ;  and  a!v  7.     . 


SERMON  XXVIII.  357 

thougli  this  is  very  properly  hung  up  for  the  observa- 
tion of  mankind  in  general,  yet  there  are  other  ex- 
amples of  a  national  Providence  which  to  us  may  be 
jnore  interesting,  as  coming  more  home  to  ourselves. 
We  of  this  kingdom  have  been  most  remarkably  favor- 
ed with  the  visible  protection  of  Heaven  ;  and  there  are 
in  our  own  history  so  many  plain  and  unequivocal 
marks  of  a  divine  interference,  that  if  we  do  not  ac- 
knowledge it,  we  arc  either  the  blindest  or  the  most  un- 
grateful people  on  earth.  Let  me  more  particularly 
call  your  attention  to  the  following  very  singular  cir- 
cumstances, in  some  of  the  greatest  events  that  dignify 
tlie  annals  of  this  country. 

Our  separation  from  the  church  of  Rome  was  begun 
by  the  passions  of  a  prince,  who  meant  nothing  less 
than  that  reformation  of  Religion  which  was  the  conse- 
quence of  it.  The  total  dispersion  and  overthrow  of 
what  was  profanely  called  the  invincible  Armada,  was 
effected  almost  entirely  by  winds  and  tempests.  That 
dreadful  popish  conspiracy,  which  seemed  guarded  by 
impenetrable  darkness  and  silence  against  all  possibili- 
ty of  detection,  was  at  last  casually  discovered  by  a 
letter  equally  indiscreet  and  obscure.  At  a  time  when 
there  appeared  no  hope  of  ever  recovering  our  ancient 
form  of  government,  it  suddenly  rose  fiom  the  ruins  in 
which  the  tragedy  of  this  day  had  involved  it  ;  under 
the  auspices  of  a  man  who  had  helped  to  destroy  it,  and 
who  seemed  almost  to  the  last  moment  undecided  whe- 
ther he  should  restore  or  destroy  it  again.  And  to 
crown  all,  our  deliverance  in  a  subsequent  reign  from 
the  attempts  of  a  gloomy  tyrant  to  enslave  both  body 
and  soul,  was  brought  about  by  a  concurrence  of  the 
most  surprising  incidents  co-operating,  at  that  very 
critical  moment  on  which  the  whole  depended,  \\  ith  the 
noblest  efforts  of  true  patriotism.  Let  now  the  hardi- 
est sceptic  consider  only  these  few  remarkable  facts, 
selected  from  a  multitude  of  others  scarce  less  extraor- 
dinary, and  then  let  him  deny,  if  he  can,  the  evident  tra- 
ces they  bear  stamped  upon  them  of  some  superi- 
or POWER. 


358  SERMON  XXVIII. 

It  may  seem,  indeed,  as  if  the  very  times  to  which 
the  present  solemnity  carries  back  our  thoughts,  were 
a  contradiction  to  the  doctrine  here  advanced,  were  a 
strong  and  melancholy  proof  that  God's  providential 
care  was  then  at  least  withdrawn,  and  "the  Hghtof  his 
*'  countenance  turned  away"  from  this  island.  The 
murder  of  a  virtuous  though  misguided  prince,  and  the 
total  subversion  of  the  constitution,  may  be  thought  ut- 
terly inconsistent  with  the  notion  of  a  divine  super- 
intendence. But  it  is  not  surely  to  be  expected,  that 
throughout  the  whole  duration  of  a  great  empire,  any 
more  than  throughout  the  whole  life  of  an  individual, 
there  is  to  be  one  uninterrupted  course  of  prosperity 
and  success.  Admonitions  and  checks,  corrections 
and  punishments,  may  be,  and  undoubtedly  are,  in  both 
cases  sometimes  useful,  perhaps  essentially  necessary  ; 
and  the  care  and  even  kindness  of  Providence  may  be 
no  less  visible  in  these  salutary  severities,  than  in  the 
distribution  of  its  most  valuable  blessings. 

Both  private  and  public  afflictions  have  a  natural 
tendency  to  awaken,  to  alarm,  to  instruct,  to  human- 
ize, to  meliorate  the  heart  of  man  ;  and  they  may  be 
ultimately  attended  with  other  very  important  and  be- 
neficial consequences.  This  was  eminently  the  case  in 
that  turbulent  period  we  are  now  commemorating. 
The  convulsions  into  which  the  nation  was  then  thrown, 
seem  to  have  been  the  efforts  of  a  vigorous  though  at 
that  time  disordered  constitution  ;  which  shaking  off 
in  those  violent  agitations  some  of  its  most  malignant 
humors,  acquired  in  the  end  a  degree  of  health  and 
soundness  unknown  to  it  before.  These  however 
might,  by  a  skilful  management,  have  been  much  soon- 
er established.     The    lenient  remedies  of  law  and 

PARLIAMENTARY     AUTHORITY,    which    WCrC     at  first 

applied,  had  made  so  great  a  progress  in  subduing  the 
maladies  of  the  state,  that  there  was  all  the  encourage- 
ment in  the  world  to  persevere  in  that  regular  and  pru- 
dent course.  But  most  unfortunately  for  the  nation, 
it  was  too  hastily  relinquished  ;  and  ih  an  evil  hour  re- 
course was  had  to  that  most  dangerous  and  desperate 


SERMON  XXVIIL  359 

of  all  experiments,  ^vhich  nothing  but  extreme  ncces- 
sitv  can  justify,  MILITARY  roRCE.  ^ 

They  who  set  out  with  the  very  best  prmciples,  and 
the  purest  intentions,  were  insensibly  led  by  aiew  art^ 
ful  incendiaries  into  excesses  of  which  at  one  time 
they  would  have  thought  themselves  utterly  incapable. 
In  their  haste  to  reform  every  thing    ^^^y/'?^^^^ 
foro-ot  that  the  other  two   branches  of  tne   legisla  uie 
th'e  kiko  and  the  lords,  had  rights  as   sacred  and 
as  essential  to  the  public  welfare,  as  those  of  the  com- 
mons ;  and  that  it  was  no  less  injurious  and  Danger- 
ous to  violate   the  constitution,    for  the  sake  ot  ad- 
vancing the  power  of  the  people    than  for  the  purpose 
of  extending  the   prerogative  of  the  crow;n      Heated 
with  those  visionary  plans  which  they  had  formed  of 
absolute  perfection  in  church  and  state,  they  thought 
it  allowable  to   promote  such  righteous  ^^^^s  by  the 
most  unrighteous  means  ;  by  trampling   on  all  those 
sacred  laws  of  truth,  justice,    equity,  chanty   and  hu- 
manity,   which   were   undoubtedly     meam   (however 
little  we  may  regard  that  meaning)  to  govern  our  po^ 
Meal  as  well  2.s"prhatc  conduct  :  and  which  can  never 
be  transgressed,  not  even   in  pursuit  of  liberty  itselt, 
.without  the  most  pernicious  effects. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  these  effects  followed  in  the 
present  instance,  and  that  the  Almighty  pursued  such 
unchristian  practices  with   the  most  exemplary  ven- 
geance.    It  is,  indeed,  very  remarkable,  that  every  one 
Sf  those  parties  which  bore  a  share  in  this  miserable 
contest,  king,  nobles,  commons,  puritans,  and  patriots 
were  disappointed  of  their  aim,  and  found  ever)  thing 
faU  out  the  very  reverse  of  what  they  expected      l.ach 
in  their  turn  became  the  victim  of  their  own  devices  ; 
and  the  new  race,  which  sprung  up  from  their  dregs, 
exhibited  to  the  world  a  most  singular  but  at  the  same 
time  most  instructive  spectacle.     Instead  of  that  unli- 
mited freedom,  temporal  andspiritual,Avhich  they  con- 
ceived themselves  commissioned  by  Heaven  to  esta- 
blish;  confusion  and  bloodshed,  tyranny  and  anarchy, 
tvery  folly  and  every  extravagance  which  enthusiasm 


560  SERMON  XXVIII; 

could  engender,  followed  each  odier  in  quick  succes- 
sion. Ashamed  and  tired  of  such  disgraceful  and  ca- 
pricious insults,  the  nation  was  at  length  roused,  and 
with  one  voice  recalled  ihe  exiled  monarch  to  the 
throne.  -  But  as  if  it  was  meant  by  Providence  that 
every  part  of  this  unexampled  scene  should  hold  forth 
some  useful  lesson  to  mankind,  it  appeared  from  the 
conclusion  no  less  than  from  the  whole  progress  of  it, 
how  completely  all  immoderate  vehemence  of  temper 
and  conduct  defeats  its  own  purposes,  and  by  grasping 
at  too  much  loses  every  thing.  For,  as  one  extreme 
naturally  begets  another,  excessive  rigor  to  the  father 
produced  excessive  indulgence  to  the  son  ;  and  in  one 
fond  moment  of  joy  was  lost  the  fruit  of  all  the  prece- 
ding struggles  against  the  exorbitant  claims  and  en- 
croachments of  the  crown. 

But  when,  in  the  following  reign,  a  different  conduct 
was  observed,  the  event  was  also  different,  and  Heaven 
gave  its  sanction  to  the  glorious  work.  At  that  memo- 
rable period  all  the  injustice  and  oppression  wns  on  the 
part  of  the  sovereign,  ail  the  forbearance  and  modera- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  subject.  For  although  the  in- 
vasions made  both  on  our  civil  and  religious  rights,  by 
James  the  Second,  were  far  bolder  and  more  alarming 
than  those  attempted  by  his  unhappy  father,  yet  they 
produced  no  hasty,  no  licentioivs  excess  among  the 
people.  Every  legal,  every  constitutional  mode  of  re- 
dress  was  first  tried,  and  when  those  failed  of  success, 
more  vigorous  and  efficacious  measures  became  neces- 
sary. Yet  even  these  were  conducted  with  the  most 
consummate  prudence  and  circumspection  ;  and  the 
wisdom,  the  calmness,  the  firmness,  the  temper,  the 
sobriety,  with  which  our  illustrious  ancestors  proceed- 
ed on  that  occasion,  form  a  most  striking  contrast  to 
the  rashness,  the  passion,  the  wild  impetuosity,  the  fa- 
natic fury,  with  which  Cromwell  and  his  associates  set 
themselves  to  tear  up  the  abuses  of  government,  and 
government  itself  along  with  them,  by  the  roots.  The 
great  authors  of  the  revolution,  on  the  contrary, 
disdaining  all  the  usual  artifices  of  faction  to  inflame 


SERMON  XXVIII.  361 

and  mislead  the  multitude,  and  leaving  every  otie  to 
his  own  natural  sense  and  feeling  of  the  injuries  he 
sustained  ;  without  calumny  or  falsehood,  without  in- 
vective or  misrepresentation,  without  the  horrors  of  a 
civil  war,  without  a  single  battle,  almost  without  the 
loss  of  a  single  life,  effected  every  thing  they  wished. 
Because  botii  the  end  they  pursued,  and  the  means  they 
employed,  were  reasonable  and  just.  Providence  crown- 
ed their  eflforts  with  success,  and  gave  diem  the  glory 
of  establishing  the  rights  of  the  people,  not  on  the  ru- 
ins of  the  constitution,  but  on  the  nice  adjustment  and 
exact  counterpoise  of  all  its  several  component  parts. 

We  have  then  the  strongest  reason  to  conclude,  that 
there  is  a  Power  on  high  which  watches  over  the  fate 
of  nations^  and  which  has  in  a  more  especial  manner, 
in  a  manner  plainly  distinguishable  from  the  ordinary 
course  of  events,  and  the  common  effects  of  human 
policy  and  foresight,  preserved  this  kingdom  in  the  most 
critical  and  perilous  circumstances*.  Does  not  this 
then  afford  some  ground  to  hope,  that  if  we  endeavor 
to  render  ourselves  worthy  of  the  divine  protection,  it 
will  be  once  more  extended  to  us  ;  and  that  by  a 
speedy  and  effectual  reformation  of  our  hearts  and  lives, 
we  may  remove  or  lighten  those  heavy  judgments 
which  our  iniquities  have  now  most  justly  drawn  down 
upon  us.  This,  I  know,  is  holding  a  language  which 
they  who  compliment  themselves  with  the  .name  of 
PHILOSOPHERS  will  treat  with  sovereign  contempt. 
But  let  them  enjoy  their  triumph  ;  and  let  them  allow 
us,  who  think  Christianity  the  best  philosoph}^  to  con- 
sole ourselves,  amidst  the  gloom  that  at  present  sur- 
rounds us,  with  those  reviving  hopes  which  the  belief 

•  1  have  often  observed,  (says  an  eloquent  writer)  that  "  when  the  ful- 
*'  ness  and  nnaturity  of  time  is  come  that  produces  the  greater  convulsions 
"  and  changes  in  the  world,  it  usually  pleases  God  to  make  it  appear,  by  the 
«'  tnanner  of  them,  that  they  are  not  the  effects  of  human  force  or  policy, 
"  hut  of  the  divine  justice  and  predestination.  And  though  we  see  a  man 
"  striking  as  it  -were,  the  hour  of  tliat  fulness  of  time,  yet  our  reasoit  must 
"  needs  Ue  convinced,  that  his  hand  is  moved  by  soine  secret,  and,  to  us 
"  who  stand  witliou',  invisible  direction."  Covile/*  Diicourst  on  the  Govern- 
ment of  Oliver  Croviivelt. 

This  observation  is,  I  apprehend,    strictly  applicable  to  thoie  in8tan«*8#f  • 
JWvisJBi.E  DIRECTION  wViich  havc  been  here  produced. 

X  X 


362  SERMON  XXVIII. 

of  God's  providential  government  presents  to  us*.  If 
this  be  superstition,  it  is  so  delightful  a  superstition, 
that  it  would  be  inhuman  to  deprive  us  of  it.  But  we 
hww  in  whom  we  trust ;  we  know  that  this  trust  rests 
on  a  foundation  which  cannot  be  shaken.  It  rests,  as 
we  have  seen,  not  only  on  the  express  declarations  and 
promises  of  holy  writ,  but  on  the  many  remarkable  in- 
stances of  a  supernatural  agency  w  hich  occur  in  the 
history  of  mankind,  and  above  all  in  our  own.  In  every 
one  of  the  extraordinary  national  deliverances  above- 
mentioned,  the  dangers  that  threatened  this  island  were 
of  a  much  greater  magnitude,  and  more  formidable  as- 
pect, than  those  which  now  seem  to  alarm  us.  Why, 
then,  may  we  not  again  indulge  ourselves  with  tlie 
same  expectations  ?  A  series  of  past  favors  naturally 
begets  a  presumption  of  their  continuance  ;  and  it  must 
not  be  wholly  imputed  to  the  laudable  partiality  which 
every  honest  man  entertains  for  his  own  country,  if  we 
give  way  to  a  persuasion,  that  God  will  still  vouchsafe 
his  accustomed  goodness  to  this  favored  land.  Yes, 
we  ^ui// sooth  ourselves  with  the  belief,  that  a  nation  so 
distinguished  as  this  has  been  with  happier  revolu- 
tions, and  greater  blessings,  than  any  other  ever  expe- 
rienced, will  not  be  at  this  time  deserted  by  its  gracious 
Benefactor  and  Protector.  It  is  here  that  civil  liberty 
ha^  fixed  her  throne  ;  it  is  here  that  Protestantism  finds 
its  firmest  support  ;  it  is  here  that  the  divine  principle 
of  toleration  is  established  ;  it  is  here  that  a  provision 
is  made  by  government  for  the  poor  ;  it  is  here  that 
they  are  Avith  a  boundless  munificence  relieved  both 
by  private  charity  and  public  institutions  ;  it  is  here, 
in  fine,  that  the  laws  are  equal,  wise  and  good;  that 
they  are  administered  by  men  of  acknowledged  ability, 
and  unimpeached  integrity  ;  and  that  through  their 
hands  the  stream  of  justice  flows  with  a  purity  un- 
known in  any  other  age  or  nation.  Nor  have  Vvc  only 
the  happiness  of  enjoying  these  unspeakable   advanta- 

*  "We  may,  I  trust,  on  the  sair.e  grounds,  entertain  even  now  the  ^ame 
reviving  hopes.  Indeed  inuch  of  the  reasoning  made  use  of  in  this  dis- 
course-applies n^ost  rcmarkablj'  to  the  present  circumstances  cf  this  coun- 
'tf}'. 


SERMON  XXVIIL  363 

gcs  oin-sclves  ;  \;'C  have  had  the  glory  (a   glory  supe- 
rior to  all  conquests,   to  all  triumphs)   of  diffusing  a 
large  proportion  of  them  over  the  remotest  regions  of 
the  glol:)e.     Wherever  our  discoveries,  bur  commerce 
or  our  arms  have  penetrated,  they  have  in  general  car- 
ried the  laws,  the   freedom,   and  the   religion,  of  this 
country  along  with  them.    Whatever  fliults  and  errors 
we  may  be  chargeable  with  in  other  respects,  for  these 
gifts  at  least,  the  most  invaluable  that  one  country   can 
bestow  upon  another,  it  is  not  improbable  that  both  the 
eastern  and  the  western  world  may  one  day  acknowledge 
that  they  were  originally  indebted  to  this  kingdom.    Is 
it  then  a  vain,  is  it  a  delusive  imagination,   that  after 
having  been  made  the  chosen  instruments  of  Provi- 
dence for  such  noble,  such  beneficial  purposes,  there 
is  some  degree  of  felicity  still  in  reserve  for  us,  and 
that  the  illustrious  part  we  have  been  appointed  to  act 
on  the  great   theatre  of  the  world   is  not  yet  accom- 
plished ;    What     may  be  in   the   councils   of    the 
MOST  high;  what  mighty  changes  he  may  be  now 
meditating  in  the  svstem  of  human  afFaii-s,  he  alone  can 
tell*-.     But  in  the  midst  of  this  awful  suspence,  ^^  hile 
the  fate  of  empires  hangs  trembling  on  his  resolves,  of 
one  thing  at  least  we  are  absolutely  certain  ;  that  it  is 
better  to   have  him  for  our  friend  than   our  enemy. 
Wliich  of  the  two  he  shall  be,  depends  entirely  upon 
ourselves.     If  by  our  infidelity,  our  impiety,  our  liber- 
tinism, our  ill-timed  gaiety  and  wanton  profuseness  in 
the  very  face  of  public  distress,  we  audaciously  insult 
his  admonitions,  and  brave  his  utmost  vengeance ;  what 
else  can  we  expect  but  that  every  thing  which  ought 
naturally  to  be  the  means  of  our  stability,  will  be  con- 
verted into  instruments  of  our  destruction  ?  That  im- 
mense dominion,  of  which  we  shall  then  be  no  longer 
worthy,   will  be  gradually  rent  away  from  us  ;   and  it 
may  even  become  necessary  for  the  welfare  of  man- 
kind,  to  cut  off  our  communication  with  distant  coun- 

*  What  mighty  changes  in  the  system  of  human  aftairs  have  since  this 
period  (1778)  actually  taken  place  both  in  Auisiicx  and  in  Europe,  thf 
rfadcr  need  not  be  informed. 


364  SERMON  XXVIII. 

tries,  lest  they  be  infected  with  the  contagion  of  owr 
sins.  But  if,  on  the  contrary,  by  reverencing  the 
judgments  of  God,  and  returning  to  that  allegiance 
which  we  owe  him,  we  again  put  ourselves  under  his 
protection  ;  he  may  still,  as  he  has  often  done,  dispel 
the  clouds  that  hang  over  u&  :  or  if,  for  wise  reasons^ 
he  suffer  them  to  gather  and  darken  upon  us,  he  may 
make  even  this  in  the  final  result,  conduce  ta  our  real 
welfare. 

There  is,  in  fact,  no  calamity,  private  or  public,, 
which  under  his  gracious  direction,  may  not  eventually 
prove  a  blessing.  There  are  no  losses,  but  that  of 
his  favor,  which  ought  to  sink  us  into  despair* 
There  is  a  spirit  in  freedom,  there  is  an  energy  in  vir- 
tue, there  is  a  confidence  in  Religion,  which  will  ena- 
ble those  that  possess  them,  and  those  only,  to  rise 
superior  to  every  disaster.  It  is  not  a  boundless  ex- 
tent of  territory,  nor  even  of  commerce,  that  is  essen-, 
tial  to  public  prosperity.  They  are  necessary,  indeed > 
to  national  greatness,  but  not  to  national  felicity.  The 
true  wealth,  the  true  security  of  a  kingdom  consists  in 
frugality,  industry,  temperance,  fortitude,  probity,  pie- 
ty, unanimity.  Great  difficulties,  more  especially,  call 
for  great  talents  and  great  virtues.  It  is  in  times  such 
as  these  that  we  look  for  those  noble  examples  of  self- 
denial  and  PUBLIC  spirit,  which  bespeak  true 
greatness  of  mind,  which  have  sometimes  saved  king- 
doms, and  immortalized  individuals.  Let,  then,  all- 
the  wise  and  the  good  in  every  party  and  denominatior^ 
of  men  among  us  (for  they  are  in  every  one  to  be  found), 
stand  forth  in  the  present  exigency  as  one  man,  to  ad-, 
vise,  direct,  assist,  and  befriend  their  country  ;  and  as 
the  Roman  triumvers  gave  up  each  his  friend  for  the 
destruction  of  the  state,  let  every  one  now  give  up  his 
favorite  prejudices,  systems,  interest,  resentments,  and 
connections,  for  the  preservatiofi  of  it.  Let  us  not,  for 
God's  sake,  let  us  not  waste  that  time  in  tearing  an<^ 
devouring  one  another,  which  ought  to  be  employed 
in  providing  for  the  general  welfare.  Unjust  suspi- 
cious, uncandid  interpretations,  mutual  reproaches^,  and 


SERMON  XXVIII.  365 

endless  altercations,  can  answer  no  other  purpose  but 
to  embitter  our  minds,  and  multiply  the  very  evils  we 
all  wisli  to  remove.  From  beginnings  such  as  these 
arose  the  calamities  we  are  now  met  to  deplore ;  and 
the  conclusion  was,  not  liberty,  but  tyranny  in  the  ex- 
treme. Can  there  possibly  be  a  stronger  motive  for 
us  to  moderate  our  dissensions,  and  compose  our  pas- 
sions, before  they  grow  too  big  for  us  to  manage  and 
control  ?  On  the  "same  bottom  are  we  all  embarked, 
and  if,  in  the  midst  of  our  angry  contentions,  the  ves- 
sel perish,  we  must  all  perisli,  with  it.  It  is  therefore 
our  common  interest,  as  it  is  our  common  duty,  to 
unite  in  guarding  against  so  fatal  an  event.  There 
can  be  no  danger  of  it  but  from  ourselves.  Our  worst, 
our  most  formidable  enemies,  are  our  own  personal  vi- 
ces and  political  distractions.  Let  harmony  inspire  our 
councils,  and  Religion  sanctify  our  hearts,  and  we  have 
nothing  to  fear.  Peace  abroad  is  undoubtedly  a 
most  desirable  object.  But  there  are  two  things  still 
more  so,  PEACE  with  one  another,  and  peace 
WITH   GojD, 


SERMON  XXIX. 


Luke  Iv.  32. 

And  they  were  astonished  at  his  doctrine  :  for  his  word  was  with 
power. 

IT  is  evident  from  this,  and  many  other  similar  pas- 
sages of  the  New  Testament,  that  our  blessed  Lord's 
discourses  made  a  very  uncommon  and  wonderful  im- 
pression on  the  minds  of  his  hearers.  We  are  told, 
in  various  places,  "  that  the  common  people  heard 
*'  him  gladly ;  that  they  wondered  at  the  gracious 
**  words  which  proceeded  out  of  his  mouth,  and  de- 
**  Glared,  with  one  voice,  that  never  man  spake  like 
**  this  man*."  Expressions  of  this  sort,  whicli  con- 
tinually occur  in  relation  to  our  Saviour's  preaching, 
we  never  find  applied  in  Scripture  to  any  other  teacher 
of  Religion ;  neither  to  the  prophets  who  preceded, 
nor  to  the  apostles  that  followed  him.  And  we  may  be 
sure,  that  the  effects  of  his  doctrine  must  have  been  y^ry 
extraordinary  indeed,  when  it  could  draw  such  strong 
language  as  this  from  the  Evangelists,  who,  in  gene- 
ral, express  themselves  with  much  calmness  and  sim- 
plicity ;  and  frequently  describe  the  most  astonishing 
miracles,  and  deliver  the  sublimest  doctrines,  without 
any  apparent  emotion,  or  remarkable  energy  of  dic- 
tion. 

What,  then,  could  it  be  which  gave  such  surpri- 
zing force  to  our  Saviour's   instructions,  such  power 

*  Mark  xii.  o7.     Lulce  iv,  2^.     John  Cii.  2?. 


SERMON  XXIX.  .^er 

to  his  words  ?  He  employed  none  of  those  rhetorical 
artifices  and  contrivances,  those  bold  figures  and  un- 
expected strokes  of  overbearing  eloquence,  which  the 
most  celebrated  ivorldly  orators  have  generally  made 
use  of,  to  inflame  the  passions  and  gain  the  admiration 
of  the  multitude.  These,  certainly,  m  ere  not  the  in- 
struments employed  by  our  Saviour  to  command  atten- 
tion. The  causes  of  these  surprizing  effects  which 
his  preaching  produced,  were  of  a  very  different  na-^ 
turc.  Some  of  these  I  shall  endeavor  to  enumerate 
and  illustrate  as  concisely  as  I  can. 

1.  The  first  was,  the  infinite  importance  and  dignity 
of  the  subjects  he  discoursed  upon.  He  did  not,  like 
many  ancient  and  many  modern  philosophers,  consume 
his  own  time,  and  that  of  his  hearers,  with  idle,  fruit- 
less speculations,  with  ingenious  essays,  and  elabo- 
rate disquisitions  on  matters  of  no  real  use  or  moment, 
with  scholastic  distinctions,  and  unintelligible  refine- 
ments ;  nor  did  he,  like  the  Jewish  rabbins,  content 
himself  with  dealing  out  ceremonies  and  traditions, 
Avith  discoursing  on  mint  and  cummin,  and  estimating 
the  breadth  of  a  phylactery  ;  but  he  drew  off  the  atten- 
tion of  his  followers  from  these  trivial,  contemptible 
things,  to  the  greatest  and  noblest  objects  that  could 
engage  the  notice,  or  interest  the  heart  of  man. 

He  taught,  in  the  first  place,  the  existence  of  one 
supreme  Almighty  Being,  the  creator,  preserver  and 
governor  of  the  imiverse.  To  this  great  Being  he 
taught  men  how  to  pray,  to  worship  him  in  spirit  and 
in  truth,  in  holiness  and  purity  of  life.  He  laid  open 
nil  the  depravit}^  of  human  nature  ;  he  pointed  out  the 
only  effectual  remedy  for  it ;  belief  in  himself,  the 
way,  the  truth,  and  the  life  ;  repentance  and  amend- 
ment ;  an  entire  and  absolute  renovation  of  heart,  and 
unreserved  submission  to  the  will  and  the  la\\-  of  God. 

The  m.orality  he  taught  was  the  purest,  the  sound- 
est, the  sublimcst,  the  most  rational,  the  most  per- 
fect, that  had  ever  before  entered  into  the  im:igination, 
or  j)roceeded  from  the  lips  of  man.  And  the  uniform 
tendency  of  all  his  doctrines,  and  all  his  precepts,  was 


368  SERMON  XXIX. 

to  make  the  whole  human  race  virtuous  and  happy ;  t(^ 
compose  them  into  resignation  and  content  ;  to  inspire 
them  with  sentiments  of  justice,  equity,  mildness, 
moderation,  compassion,  anrl  idBTcction  towards  each 
other ;  and  to  fill  them  with  sure  hope  and  trust  in  God 
for  pardon  of  their  sins,  on  most  equitable  terms,  and 
the  assistance  of  his  holy  spirit  to  regulate  their  future 
conduct. 

And,  finally,  to  give  irresistible  force  to  his  com- 
mands, he  added  the  most  awful  sanctions,  the  doc- 
trines of  a  future  resurrection,  a  day  of  judgment  and 
of  retribution,  a  promise  of  eternal  reward  to  the 
good,  and  a  denunciation  of  the  most  tremendous  pun- 
ishments to  the  wicked. 

2.  Such  was  the  general  matter  of  his  instructions ; 
and,  in  the  next  place,  his  mafiner  of  conveying  them 
was  no  less  excellent,  and  no  less  conducive  to  their 
success. 

What,  for  instance,  could  be  more  noble,  more  af- 
fecting, than  the  very  first  opening  of  his  divine  com- 
mission ?  "  The  spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  be- 
*'  cause  he  hath  anointed  me  to  preach  the  Gospel  to 
*'  the  poor  \  he  hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  broken-heart- 
*'  ed,  to  preach  deliverance  to  the  cnpti\es,  and  reco- 
*'  vering  of  sight  to  the  blind,  to  set  at  liberty  them  diat 
"  are  bruised  ;  to  preach  the  acceptable  year  of  the 
"  Lord*." 

These  were  the  gracious  declarations  with  which  he 
began  his  ministry,  and  in  the  same  spirit  he  continu- 
ed it  to  the  very  last.  Though  he  invited  all  men, 
without  distinction,  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  to 
embrace  the  gracious  offers  of  salvation  ;  yet  he  ad- 
dressed himself  principally  to  the  ignorant,  the  indi- 
gent, the  publican,  and  the  sinner.  *'  He  broke  not 
*'  the  bruised  reed,  nor  quenched  the  smoaking  flaxf  ;'* 
that  is,  he  bore  not  hard  on  any  that  were  boAved  down 
with  a  sense  of  their  unworthiness,  nor  extinguished 
by  discouragement  the  faintest  spark  of  returning  vir- 
tue ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  invited  to  him  those  *'  that 

•  Luke  iv.  18.  t  Matth.  xii.  20. 


SERMON  XXIX.  369 

*'  were  heavy  laden  with  sin,  that  he  might  give  them 
«'  rest." 

His  discourses  were  perfectly  adapted  to  these  gra- 
cious purposes.  They  were  mild,  tender,  cncou- 
rai^ing.  They  were  such  as  the  most  learned  and  best 
informed  might  listen  to  with  benefit  and  delight,  yet 
such  as  the  weakest  and  most  ignorant  might  easily 
comprehend.  He  did  not  deliver  a  regular,  dry,  me- 
thodical system  of  ethics,  nor  did  he  enter  into  all  the 
little  minute  divisions  and  subdivisions  of  virtue.  But 
he  laid  down  in  the  first  place,  the  two  great  leading 
fundamental  principles  of  love  to  God,  and  love  to 
mankind,  and  thence  deduced,  as  occasions  presented 
themselves,  and  incidents  occurred,  which  gave  pecu- 
liar force  and  energy  to  his  instructions,  all  the  princi- 
pal duties  respecting  God,  our  neighbor,  and  our- 
selves. Whenever  he  made  use  of  the  common  di- 
dactic method,  as  in  his  discourse  from  the  mount, 
the  doctrines  he  taught,  and  the  precepts  he  delivered, 
were  short,  sententious,  solemn,  important,  full  of  Vv  is- 
dom  and  of  dignity,  yet  intelligible  and  clear.  But  sen- 
sible how  much  this  formal  mode  of  teaching  v.as  apt 
to  weary  the  attention,  and  die  away  out  of  the  me- 
mory, he  added  two  others,  much  better  calculated  to 
make  deep  and  lasting  impressions  on  the  mind.  The 
first  was,  conveying  his  instructions  under  the  cover 
of  similitudes  and  i)arables,  drawn  from  the  most  ob- 
vious appearances  of  nature,  or  the  most  familiar  oc- 
currences of  life.  The  other  was  the  use  of  certain 
significant  emblematic  actions,  such  as  that  of  washing 
his  disciples'  feet,  by  which  he  expressed  his  meaning 
more  clearly  and  emphatically  than  by  any  words  he 
could  have  employed  for  that  purpose. 

3.  Another  circumstance  which  gave  force  and  ef- 
ficacy to  our  Saviour's  preaching  was,  that  he  appeared 
to  be  perfectly  impartial,  and  to  have  no  respect  to 
persons.  He  reproved  vice  in  every  station,  wherever 
he  found  it  with  the  same  freedom  and  boldness.  He 
paid  no  court  either  to  the  multitude  on  the  one  hand, 
or  to  the  great  and  vvealthy  on  the  other.     Though  he 

Yy 


370  SERMON  XXIX. 

ate  and  drank,  and  conversed  widi  publicans  and  siri- 
ners,  yet  it  was  not  to  encoiuiige  and  indulge  them  ill 
their  vices,  but  to  reprove  and  correct  them  ;  it  was 
because  they  were  sick,  and  wanted  a  physician,  and 
that  physician  he  was.  In  the  same  manner,  while  he 
•taught  the  people  to  render  unto  Cassar  the  things  that 
were  Ctcsars,  to  honor  those  to  whom  honor  was  due, 
and  to  pay  all  proper  respect  and  obedience  to  those 
who  sat  in  Moses'  seat,  yet  this  did  not  prevent  him 
from  rebuking  the  Eiders  and  the  Rulers,  the  Scribes 
and  the  Pharisees,  with  the  greatest  plainness,  and  with 
the  utmost  severity,  for  their  hypocrisy  and  insincerity, 
their  rapacity  and  extortion,  their  zeal  for  trifles,  and 
their  neglect  of  the  weightier  matters  of  the  law. — 
This  intrepidity  and  impartiality  in  his  instructions, 
and  in  the  distribution  of  his  censures  and  Lis  admo- 
nitions, evidently  shewed  that  he  had  no  private  ends 
to  serve,  that  the  salvation  of  men  was  his  only  object, 
and  that  he  was  not  to  be  deterred  from  pursuing  it  by 
the  fear  of  consequences.  All  which  could  not  fail 
to  impress  his  followers  with  the  utmost  respect,  awe, 
and  reverence,  both  for  his  person  and  his  doctrines. 

4.  Every  one  that  hopes  to  w^ork  any  material 
change,  any  effect Uctl  reformation  in  the  hearts  of  those 
whom  he  addresses,  must  endeavor  to  find  out,  as  well 
as  he  is  able,  their  real  sentiments  and  habits  of  think- 
ing, their  tempers  and  dispositions,  their  peculiar  fail- 
ings and  infirmities,  their  secret  wickednesses,  and  un- 
witnessed transgressions. 

There  are  a  thousand  artifices  by  which  men  are 
able  to  conceal  their  corruption  and  depravity  from  the 
eyes  of  others,  and  sometimes,  alas  !  even  from  their 
own.  And  it  has  been  affirmed  by  some  very  sagaciou9 
observers  of  hum.an  nature,  that  no  one  ever  yet  dis- 
covered the  bottom  of  liis  heart,  even  to  his  most  inti- 
mate and  bosom  friend.  But  it  was  inipossible  for 
any  wickedness,  however  secret,  or  however  artfully 
disguised,  to  escape  the  all-seeing  eye  of  the  Son  of 
God.  He  saw,  at  one  glance,  the  inmost  recesses  of 
tiie  soul.     He  discovered  every  thought  as  it  rose  in 


SERMON  XXTX.  571 

tnc  mind.  Ke  detected  every  irregular  desire  !)cforc  it 
ripened  into  action.  Hence  he  wns  iihvays  enabled  to 
adapt  his  discourses  to  the  particular  circumstances  and 
situation  of  every  individual  that  heard  him,  and  to  ap- 
ply such  remedies,  and  i^ive  such  directions,  as  the 
peculiar  exigences  of  their  case  required.  Hence,  too, 
his  answers  to  their  questions  and  enquiries  were  fre- 
quently accommodated  more  to  what  they  thought, 
than  what  they  said  ;  and  wc  find  tiiem  going  away 
from  him  astonished,  at  perceiving  that  he  was  perfectly 
well  acquainted  with  every  thing  that  passed  within 
their  breasts  ;  and  filled  v/idi  admiration  of  a  teacher 
possessed  of  such  extraordinary  powers,  to  whom  all 
hearts  were  open,  and  from  whom  no  secrets  were  hid. 
It  is  evident  what  a  command  this  must  give  him  over 
the  affections  of  his  hearers,  and  what  attention  and 
obedience  it  must  secure  to  all  his  precepts  and  ex- 
hortations. 

5.  The  same  effects  must,  in  some  degree,  l3e  pro- 
duced  by  the  A'arious  proofs  he  ga\e  of  the  most  perfect 
Avisdom  in  solving  the  difficulties  that  were  proposed  to 
him,  and  of  the  most  consummate  prudence  and  ad- 
dress, in  escaping  all  the  snares  that  were  laid  for  him. 
Even  when  he  was  but  twelve  years  of  age,  he  was  able 
to  converse  and  to  dispute  witli  the  most  learned  ex- 
pounders of  the  law,  and  all  that  heard  him  were  as- 
tonished at  his  understanding  and  his  answers.  After- 
wards, during  the  "lA'hole  course  of  Ifis  ministry,  the 
Rulers,  and  Scribes,  and  Pharisees,  that  is,  tlie  men  of 
the  greatest  learning  and  ability  amonp:st  the  Jews  were 
perpetually  endeavoring  to  entangle  him  in  his  talk,  to 
perplex  and  harass  him  \vith  insidious  questions,  and  to 
draw  him  into  absurd  conclusions,  and  hazardous  situ- 
ations. But  he  constantly  found  means  to  disengage 
himself  both  from  the  dilemma  and  the  danger ;  to 
form  his  determinations  with  such  exquisite  sagacity 
and  judgment,  and  sometimes  to  propose  to  them,  ih 
his  turn,  difficulties  so  much  beyond  their  ingenuity  to 
clear  up,  that  diey  generally  "  marvelled,  and  left  .him, 
*'  and  went  their  ^\ay.     Not  one  amongst  them  was 


372  SERMON  XXIX. 

*'  able  to  answer  him  ;  neither  durst  any  man,  from 
*'  that  day  forth,  ask  him  any  more  questions." 

6.  It  is  evident  to  reason,  and  it  is  confirmed  by  in- 
variable experience,  that  the  purest  and  the  sublimest 
precepts,  if  not  enforced  by  a  correspondent  example  in 
the  teacher,  will  avail  but  little  with  the  generality  of 
mankind.  It  is  equally  certain,  that  tht  re  scarce  ever 
existed  a  public  instructor,  whose  practice,  hoMever 
laudable  in  general,  did  not  fall  far  below  the  rules  he 
prescribed  to  others,  and  to  himself. 

Here  our  blessed  Lord  stood  unrivalled  and  alone  : 
he,  and  he  only,  of  all  the  sons  of  men,  acted  up  in 
every  the  minutest  instance  to  what  he  taught  ;  and  ex- 
hibited, in  his  own  person,  a  perfect  model  of  every 
virtue  he  inculcated.  He  commanded,  for  instance, 
his  disciples  "  to  love  God  with  all  their  heart,  and 
*'  soul,  and  mind,  and  strength*,"  and  in  conformity  to 
this  law,  he  himself  manifested,  through  his  whole 
conduct,  the  most  ardent  love  for  his  heavenly  Father, 
the  most  fervent  zeal  for  his  honor  and  glory,  for  the 
advancementof  his  Religion,  and  the  establishment  of 
his  kingdom  throughout  the  earth.  His  meat  and 
drink,  indeed,  was  to  do  the  will  of  him  that  sent  him. 
He  commanded  them  again  "  to  love  their  neighbor 
*'  as  themselves!;"  and  his  own  life  was  one  continued 
exercise  of  love,  kindness,  and  compassion  to  the 
uhole  human  race.  He  required  them  to  be  meek, 
humble,  gentle,  and  peaceable  to  all  men|.  And  how 
did  he  teach  them  this  important  lesson  ?  "  Learn  of 
"  me,"  says  he,  "for  I  am  meek  and  lowly,  and  ye 
*' shall  find  rest  unto  your  soulsj|."  He  exacted  of 
them  the  most  unblemished  purity  and  sanctity  of  man- 
ners ;  a  severe  demand  !  but  he  had  a  right  to  make 
it;  for  he  himself  was  "  pure,  holy,  harmless,  and  un- 
*'  defiled  :  he  did  no  sin,  neither  was  guile  found  in  his 
*'  mouth §."  He  enjoined  them  to  '*  deny  themselves 
"  and  take  up  their  cross^."  But  it  was  to  follow /i'f»3 
who  had  denied  himself  almost  every  comfort  and  con- 

*Markxii.  30.         •»- Matth.    xix.  19.  |  Tit.  ili.  2 

y  Matt.  xi.  29.  §  Heb.  vii.  26.  1  Pet.  ii,  22.  H  Matt.  xvi.  24. 


SERMON  XXIX.  373 

venience  of  life  ;  and  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before 
him,  "  endured  the  cross,  and  despised  the  shame"  of 
an  ignominious  death*-.  He  required  them  "  to  love 
**  their  enemies,  to  bless  those  that  cursed  them,  and 
*'  pray  for  those  that  despitefully  used  and  persecuted 
*'  themf."  A  hard  saying  this,  and  of  all  others,  per- 
haps, the  most  revolting  to  human  nature.  But  how 
could  they  refuse  to  give  even  this  last  and  most  pain- 
ful proof  of  their  obedience,  who  saw  that  their  divine 
Master,  when  he  was  reviled,  reviled  not  again  ;  but, 
in  the  very  midst  of  his  agony,  prayed  for  his  enemies 
^nd  persecutors  J. 

No  wonder  that  every  word  from  such  a  teacher  as 
this  should  sink  deep  into  the  hearts  of  all  who  heard 
them,  and  engage  their  affections,  as  well  as  convince 
their  understandings. 

7,  and  lastly.  To  the  influence  of  example,  he  added 
the  authority  of  a  divine  teacher. 

The  best  and  wisest  of  the  ancient  philosophers 
could  do  nothing  more  than  give  good  advice  to  their 
followers  ;  and  uc  all  know,  from  sad  experience,  w hat 
mere  advice  will  do  against  strong  passions,  establish- 
ed habits,  and  inveterate  corruptions. 

But  our  great  Lawgiver,  on  the  contrary,  delivered 
all  his  doctrines,  and  all  his  precepts,  in  the  name  of 
God.  He  spoke  in  a  tone  of  superiority  and  com- 
mand, which  no  one  before  him  had  the  courage  or  the 
right  to  assume. 

He  called  himself  the  Son  of  God  ;  and  he  con- 
stantly supported,  in  his  words  as  well  as  in  his  actions, 
the  dignity  and  the  divinity  of  that  high  character. 
Not  to  mention  all  his  astonishing  miracles,  he  showed 
even  in  his  discourses,  that  "  all  power  in  Heaven  and 
"  in  earth  was  given  unto  him,  and  that  he  and  his  Fa- 
'*  ther  were  on(j|."  In  the  very  beginning  of  his  ser- 
mon on  the  mount,  to  the  poor  in  spirit,  to  the  merci- 
ful, to  the  pure  in  heart,  to  the  peace- makers,  and  ma- 
ny other  descriptions  of  men,  he  took  upon  him  to 

•  Heb.  xii.  2.     +  Matt.  v.  44.        \  IPet.  ii  23.    Lukexxiii.  54.         .^ 
H  Matth.  xxviii.  18.     John  x.  30- 


574  SERMON  XXIX. 

promise  the  kingdom  of  Heaven*.  When  he  v.'as  ex. 
posing  the  vain  traditions  of  the  elders,  he  opposed  to 
their  feeble  reasonings,  ?nd  miserable  casuistry,  his 
own  authoritative  edict.  "  But  /saj  unto  you,  swear 
*' not  at  all  ;  /say  unto  you,  resist  not  evil  ;  /  say 
*^  unto  you,  love  your  enemiesf."  When  the  Phari- 
sees rebuked  his  disciples  for  plucking  the  ears  of  corn 
on  the  Sabbath,  he  silenced  them  with  declaring,  "  that 
*'  the  Son  of  Man  was  Lord  also  of  the  SabbathJ." 
When  he  healed  diseases,  his  language  was,  ".I  will ; 
*'  be  thou  clean  jj."  When  he  forgave  sins,  "be  of 
**  good  cheer,  thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee.  Thy  fiuth 
*'  hath  made  thee  whole.  Go  in  peace,  and  sin  no 
"  more§."  And  when  he  gives  a  description  of  the 
last  day,  he  represents  himself  as  an  Almigiity  Sove- 
reign, sitting  on  the  throne  of  his  glory,  Avith  all  the 
inhabitants  of  the  earth  standing  before  him,  to  whom. 
he  distributes  everlasting  rewards  and  everlasting  pu- 
nishments, according  to  tlieir  dcserts*l[.  Well  then, 
might  they  say  of  him,  "  tliat  his  word  was  with 
*'  pov/er,  and  that  he  taught  th.cm  as  one  having  au- 
*'  thority,  and  not  as  the  Scribes-^'*." 

These,  then,  were  the  principal  causes  which  gave 
such  force  and  success  to  our  Saviour's  instruction, 
and  compelled  even  his  enemies  to  acknov.'ledge,  that, 
*'  never  man  spake  as  he  spake."  The  consequence 
*'  was  that  all  men  sought  him,"  and  all  who  lieard  him, 
and  were  not  blinded  by  their  prejudices,  "  forsook  their 
*^  sins;  and  follov.-ed  himif f."  It  is  evidently  our  duty 
to  do  the  same  :  for  the  same  causes,  which  gave  such 
efficacy  to  our  Saviour's  preaching,  do  in  a  great  degree* 
still  subsist  in  the  Gospel,  and  ought  to  produce  the 
same  effects.  In  one  respect,  indeed,  we  fall  short  of 
those  who  heard  him.  He  is  not  personally  present 
■with  us,  nor  has  he  "  taught  in  our  streets."  Here  it 
must  be  owned  the  first  disciples  had  som.e  advantage 
over  us.     They  who  had  the  happiness  to  see  and  to 

*  Matt  V.  3.  12.  f  Matth.v.  34-,  39,  44. 

X  Mark  ii.  28.  ll   Matth.  viii.  3 

I  Matth.  ix.  2.     Mark  v.  31.  t  Matth.  .xxv.  31. 

•*  Matth,  vii.  23.  tt  Lukciv.  42,     Marly  i.  18. 


SERMON  XXI5:.  375 

hear  him,  w  hose  senses  were  charmed,  whose  hearts 
were  subdued  by  the  venerable  mildness  of  his  look, 
the  gracious  mujesty  of  his  gestures,  the  awfully  pleas- 
ing sound  of  his  voice,  to  vvhom  all  he  had  said  and 
clone,  with  the  very  mdnncr  of  his  saying  and  doing  it, 
v.'as  occurring  every  moment,  and  continually  present 
in  reality  or  in  imagination  ;  these,  undoubtedly,  must 
be  moved  and  affected  to  a  degree  of  v\hich  we  can  hard- 
ly form  afiy  just  conception.  Yet  still  his  words  carry 
u  divine  power  along  with  them,  sufficient  to  convince 
every  understanding,  and  to  subdue  every  heart  that  is 
not  hardened  against  conviction.  We  have  still  before 
our  eyes,  in  the  histories  of  the  Evangelists,  the  sub- 
lime and  heavenly  doctrines  which  he  delivered,  the  pa- 
rables he  uttered,  the  significant  actions  he  made  use 
of,  the  instructions  and  the  reproofs  he  gave  to  sinners 
of  every  denomination,  the  triumphs  he  obtained  over 
the  most  artful  and  insidious  of  his  enemies,  the  unri- 
valled purity  and  perfection  of  his  example,  the  divine 
authority  and  dignity  with  which  he  spoke,  the  awful 
punishments  he  denounced  against  those  who  rejected^ 
and  the  eternal  rewards  he  promised  to  those  who  re- 
ceived his  words.  These  things  still  remain,  and  must 
for  ever  remain  ;  must  for  ever  give  irresistible  force 
and  energy  to  every  word  that  is  recorded  as  proceed- 
ing from  the  m.cuth  of  Christ,  and  must  render  it 
"  quick  and  powerful,  and  sharper  than  a  two-edged 
*'  sword,  piercing  even  to  the  dividing  asunder  of  soul 
*'  and  spirit*."  If  eloquence,  such  as  this,  does  not 
make  a  deep,  and  lasting,  and  vital  impression  upon 
our  souls  ;  if  we  do  not  find  it  to  be,  indeed,  the  pow- 
er of  God  unto  salvation,  we  shall  be  left  without  ex- 
cuse. Let  us  then,  in  the  languao:e  of  our  church, 
most  earnestly  beseech  Almighty  God,  that  those  sa- 
cred words  which  we  have  now,  or  at  any  other  time, 
heard  with  our  outward  cars,  may,  through  his  grace 
be  so  grafted  inwairdly  in  our  hearts,  that  they  may 
bring  forth  in  us  the  fruit  of  good  living,  to  the  honor 
and  praise  of  his  name,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.' 

•  Hwl*.  iv.  12. 


'"■'  'i* 


SERMON  XXX*. 


Luke  vii.  22* 

TheJi  Jesus  ansivering.^  said  unto  them^  s^o  ijour  ivay,  and  tell  John 
•what  things  ye  have  seen  and  heard  ;  hora  that  the  blind  seey 
the  lame  ivalk^  the  lejiers  are  cleansed,  the  deaf  hear,  the 
dead  are  raised,  to  the  poor  the  gospel  is  fireached. 

YOU  will  immediately  recollect  the  occasion  on 
which  these  words  were  spoken.  They  make  a 
part  of  the  answer  which  our  Saviour  gave  to  the  two 
disciples  whom  John  the  Baptist  sent  to  him,  to  ask 
whether  he  was  the  Great  Deliverer  that  was  to  come, 
or  they  were  to  look  for  another.  The  whole  passage 
is  a  remarkable  one,  and  affords  ample  matter  for  ob- 
servation ;  but  the  particular  circumstance  to  which  I 
mean  to  draw  your  attention  at  present,  is  the  last 
clause  of  the  text,  in  which  we  are  told,  that  "  to  the 
*'  poor  the  Gospel  is  preached." 

That  our  Lord  should  appeal  to  the  miracles  which 
he  had  wrought  before  the  eyes  of  the  two  disciples,  as 
an  incontestible  proof  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  will 
be  thought  very  natural  and  proper ;  but  that  he  should 
immediately  subjoin  to  this,  as  an  additional  proof; 
and  a  proof  on  which  he  seems  to  lay  as  much  stress  as 
on  the  other,  that  "  to  the  poor  the  Gospel  was  preach- 
"  ed,"  may  appear,  at  the  first  view,  a  little  extraor- 
dinary.    We  shall,  however,  soon  be  satisfied  that  in 

*  Preached  at  the  Yearly  Meeting  of  the  Charity  Schools,  in  the  Cathe- 
dral Church  of  St.  Paul,  May  2,  1782. 


SERMON  XXX.  377 

this,  as  well  as  in  every  otlier  instance,  our   tlivine 
Master   acted  with  consummate  wisdom.       He   was 
speaking  to  Jews.     His  olijcct  was  to  convince  them, 
that  he  was  the  Messiah.     The  obvious  way  of  do- 
ing this  was  to  shew,  that  he  corresponded  to  the  de- 
scription which  their  own  prophets  gave  of  that  great 
personage.       Now   they   speak    of  him   as  one,  who 
should  not  only  give  eyes  to  the  blind,  ears  to  the  deaf, 
feet  to  the  lame,  and  speech  to  the  dumb,  but  should 
also  "  preach  good  tidings  to  the  meek  and  the  poor*." 
These  were  two  distinct  and  separate  marks  by  which 
he  was  to  be  known,  and  it  was  therefore  as  proper  and 
necessary  for  our  Saviour  to  refer  to  the  one  as  to  the 
other.     Whoever  pretended  to  be  the  Messiah,  must 
unite  in  himself  these  two  great  discriminating  pecu- 
liarities, which,  taken  together,  form  one  of  the  most 
illustrious  and  beneficent  characters  that  can  be  ima- 
gined ;  a  character  distinguished  by  the  communica- 
tion of  the  greatest  of  all  earthly  blessings  to  two  de- 
scriptions of  men,  who  stood  most  in  need  of  assist- 
ance, the  diseased,  and  the  poor.     To  the  former,  the 
promised  Saviour  of  the  world  was  to  give  health  ;  to 
the  latter,  spiritual  instruction.     In  this  manner  was 
the  great  Redeemer  marked  out  by  the  prophets,  and 
this  glorious  distinction  did  Christ  display  and  support 
in  his  own  person  throughout  the  whole  course  of  his 
ministry. 

That  he  was  infinitely  superior  to  every  other  teach- 
er of  religion  in  the  number,  and  the  benevolent  nature 
of  his  miracles,  is  well  known ;  and  that  he  was  no 
less  distinguished  by  the  circumstance  of  "  pre.aching 
"  to  the  poor  ;"  that  there  was  no  one  either  before  or 
after  him,  who  made  it  his  peculiar  business  to  instruct 
them,  and  jxiid  such  constant  and  condescending  at- 
tention to  them  as  he  did,  is  equally  certain.  The  an- 
cient prophets  were  usually  sent  to  kings  and  princes, 
to  the  rich  and  the  great,  and  many  of  their  prophecies 
were  couched  in  sublime  figurative  language,  beyond 
the  comprehension   of  the   vulgar.     There  were,  in- 

"  Isalali  x:;L\-.  18,  19.  xxnv.  5,  6.  Ixi.  1. 
Z2 


378  SP:RM0N  XXX. 

deed,  other  parts  of  tlie  Jewish  scriptures  siifficeintly 
plain  and  intelHgiblc,  aud  adapted  to  all  capacities  ;  but 
even  these  the  rabbies  and  the  scribes,  the  Gjreat  ex- 
pounders of  the  Ian  among  the  Jews,  contrived  to  per- 
plex and  darken,  and  render  almost  useless  by  their 
vain  traditions,  their  absurd  glosses,  and  childish  in- 
terpretations. So  far  were  they  h'om  bho\vii)g  any  par- 
ticular regard  or  tenderness  to  the  common  people, 
that  they  held  them  in  the  utmost  contempt ;  they  con- 
sidered them  as  accursed^,  because  they  knew  not  that 
law,  which  they  themselves  took  care  to  render  impen- 
etrably obscure  to  them.  "  They  took  away  the  key 
"  of  knovv'ledge  ;  they  entered  not  in  themselves,  and 
"  those  that  were  entering  in  they  hinderedf."  It  m  as 
even  a  proverbial  saying  among  them,  "  that  the  Spirit 
"  of  God  did  not  rest  but  upon  a  rich  man  J."  Sa 
different  were  the  maxims  of  the  great  Jewish  teach- 
ers from  the  sentiments  and  conduct  of  that  heavenly 
Instructor,  who  openly  declared,  and  gloried  in  the 
declaration,  that  he  came  "  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the 
"  poor|j." 

Nor  did  the  lower  ranks  of  mankind  meet  with  better 
treatment  in  the  heathen  a\  orld.  There  were  among 
the  ancient  Pagans,  at  different  periods,  and  in  differ- 
ent countries,  many  excellent  moral  writers  of  fine 
talents  and  profound  knowledge;  but  their  composi- 
tions were  calculated  not  for  the  illiterate  and  the  indi- 
gent, but  for  men  of  ability  aixl  erudition  like  them- 
selves. They  thought  the  poor  below  their  notice  or 
regard  ;  they  could  not  stoop  so  low  as  to  accommo- 
date themselves  to  the  understanding  of  the  vulgar. 
Their  ambition,  even  in  their  ethical  treatises,  was  to 
please  the  learned  few.     To   these   the   Dialogues  of 

*  John  vii.  48,  49.         t  Luke  xi.  52.         %  Grotius  on  Matth.  xi.  5. 

II  It  may  be  alleged,  that  by  the  poor,  to  whom  our  Lord  preached  the 
Gospel,  the  saered  writers  meant  not  the  poor  in  circumstances,  but  the  poor 
in  spirit.  The  truth  is,  they  meant  both  ;  by  our  Saviour's  conduct  both 
senses  were  equally  verified  ;  and  these  two  sorts  of  poverty  are  so  frequently 
found  united,  tliat  it  is  scarce  necessary,  at  least  in  the  present  instance,  to 
distinguish  between  them.  For  more  complete  satisfaction  on  this  and 
some  other  points  (of  which  but  a  very  imperfect  view  is  given  here)  sec 
Bishop  Hurd's  admirable  sermon  on  Matth.  v.  3.  s.-S. 


SERMON  XXX.  '  379 

Plato,  the  Ettiics  of  Aristotle,  tlic  Offices  of  Cicero, 
the  Morals  of  Seneca  and  of  Plutarch,  mii^ht  afford 
both  entertainment  antl  information  ;  but  had  they  been 
read  to  a  Grecian  or  a  Roman  peasant,  he  would  not,  I 
conceive,  have  found  himself  either  much  enlightened 
or  much  improved  by  them.  How  should  he  get  wis- 
dom from  such  sources  "  that  holdeth  the  plough,  and 
"  that  giorieth  in  the  goad  ;  that  driveth  oxen,  and  is 
"  occupied  in  their  labors  ;  that  giveth  his  mind  to 
"  make  furrows,  and  is  diligent  to  give  the  kine  fod- 
"  der*."  Very  different  occupations  these  from  the 
studies  of  the  philosopher  or  the  metaphysician,  and 
not  very  well  calculated  to  prepare  the  mind  for  the  lec- 
tures of  the  academy,  the  lyceum,  or  the  portico. 

The  truth  is,  there  was  Aot  a  single  book  of  mo- 
rality at  that  time  written  solely  or  principally  for  the 
use  of  the  ignorant  and  the  poor  ;  nor  had  they  their 
duty  explained  to  them  in  any  other  mode  of  instruc- 
tion adapted  to  their  capacities.  They  had  no  lessons 
of  conduct  given  them  so  plain,  so  familiar,  so  forcible, 
so  authoritative,  as  those  which  are  now  regularly  dis- 
pensed to  every  Christian  congregation  ;  nothing  that 
made  the  smallest  approach  to  our  Saviour's  divine 
discourses,  (especially  that  from  the  Mount)  to  the  ten 
commandments,  to  the  other  moral  parts  of  the  Old 
and  New  Testament,  or  to  the  practical  instructions 
and  exhortations  given  weekly  to  the  people  by  the 
ministers  of  the  Gospel.  They  were  left  to  form  a 
system  of  morality  for  themselves  as  well  as  they  could  ; 
in  which  they  were  so  far  from  being  assisted  by  their 
national  Religion,  that  both  the  mode  and  the  objects 
of  their  worship,  were  of  themselves  sufficient  to  cor- 
rupt their  hearts,  and  to  counteract  any  right  opinions 
or  virtuous  inclinations  that  might  casually  spring  up 
in  their  minds. 

In  this  situation  did  our  blessed  Lord  find  the  inferi- 
or class  of  mankind  when  he  entered  upon  his  minis- 
try. He  found  them  without  guide,  instructor,  coun- 
sellor, or  friend.     He  saw  them  (to  use  the  affecting 

*  Ecclcs.  xxxvUi.  "5,  26. 


380  SERMON  XXX. 

language  of  Scripture)  "  fainting  and  scattered  abroad 
*'  as  sheep  having  no  shepherd,  and  he  had  compassion 
*'  upon  them*."  He  took  them  instantly  under  his 
protection,  he  shared  with  them  the  miseries  of  their 
condition.  He  assumed  the  form  of  a  servant,  submit- 
ted to  all  the  hardships  of  that  situation,  and  frequently 
*'  had  not  even  where  to  lay  his  head."  Although  he 
did  not  reject  the  wealthy  and  the  great,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  received  them  with  the  utmost  kindness, 
whenever  they  showed  any  marks  of  a  right  and  teacha- 
ble disposition,  yet  "  not  maiiy  noble,  not  many  mighty, 
"  were  at  first  calledf."  It  was  from  among  fisher- 
men and  mechanics  that  he  chose  his  companions  and 
apostles.  It  was  to  the  poor  he  chiefiy  addressed  his 
discourses.  With  these  he  principally  lived  and  con- 
versed ;  and  to  their  understandings  was  the  greater 
part  of  his  parables,  his  allusions,  his  reasonings,  his 
ptecepts,  and  his  exhortations,  most  kindly  accommo- 
dated. 

Thus  did  our  heavenly  Instructor  most  exactly  fulfil 
the  predictions  of  the  prophets  and  his  own  declarations 
that  he  would  evangelize  to  the  poor.  The  conse- 
quence was  what  might  naturally  be  expected  from  a 
measure  as  full  of  wisdom  as  it  was  of  humanity,  al- 
though totally  opposite  to  the  usual  practice  of  moral 
teachers.  In  a  short  space  of  time  that  Gospel,  which 
was  at  first  .preached  more  particularly  to  the  poor, 
was  embraced  also  by  the  rich  ;  and  became,  in'  a  few 
centuries,  the  established  Religion  of  the  most  powerful 
and  extensive  empire  in  the  world,  as  it  now  is  of  all 
the  most  civilized  and  most  enlightened  kingdoms  of 
the  earth.  Whereas  the  renowned  sages  of  antiquity, 
by  pursuing  a  contrary  course,  by  making  it  their  only 
object  to  please,  amuse,  and  inform  the  learned  and  the 
great,  were  never  able,  with  all  their  \visdom  and  elo- 
quence  to  enlighten  or  reform  a  single  province,  or 
even  a  single  city  of  any  note  or  magnitude:}:. 

*  Matrh.  ix.  .'36.  f  1  Cor.  i.  26. 

I  Hence  it  is  obvious  to  remark,  how  very  unfortunately  those  writers 
against  Christianity  have  enri ployed  their  time  and  labor,  \vho  have  taken 
so  much  pains  to  prove,  that  amo^ig  the  first  converts  to  that  Ri-Iigion,  thero 


SERMON  XXX.  381 

We  have  here  then,  the  utmost  encouragement  to 
tread  in  the  steps  of  our  divine  Lawgiver,  and  to  imi- 
tate, as  far  as  v.e  are  able,  that  method  of  propagating 
his  Religion  which  he  adopted,  and  which  was  attend- 
ed with  such  signal  success.  Although  it  is  un- 
doubtedly our  duty  "  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  every 
*'  creature*,"  to  press  it  on  all  ranks  of  people,  high 
and  low,  rich  and  poor  ;  yet  the  example  of  our  Lord 
plainly  calls  upon  us  to  show  a  peculiar  attention  to 
those  whom  Providence  has  placed  in  the  humble  con- 
ditions of  life.  The  reasons  for  this  are  obvious  :  they 
are  the  same  which  probably  influenced  our  Saviour's 
conduct  in  this  respect,  and  they  still  subsist  in  their 
full  force.  The  poor  have  in  general  much  fewer  op- 
portunities of  learning  their  duty  themselves  than  the 
wealthy  and  the  great  :  their  education  seldom  quali- 
fies them,  and  their  constant  cares  and  labors  leave 
them  but  little  leisure,  for  acquiring  sufficient  religious 
knowledge  without  assistance.  Their  spiritual  as  well 
as  temporal  necessities  are  but  too  often  overlooked, 
and  disregarded  by  their  superiors,  and  yet  they  form  by 
far  the  largest  and  most  necessary  part  of  the  communis 
ty.  Add  to  all  this,  that  they  are  commonly  much  freer 
from  prejudice,  much  less  wedded  to  systems  and 
opinions,  more  open  to  conviction,  more  anxious  to 
obtain  information,  and  more  ready  to  embrace  truth, 
than  the  higher  ranks  of  men.  These  circumstances 
evidently  point  them  out  as  objects  highly  worthy  of 
our  utmost  care  and  diligence,  in  furnishing  their  minds 
with  those  sacred  truths,  those  rules  of  moral  and  re- 
ligious conduct,  which  are  necessary  to  render  them 
"  wise  unto  salvation." 

were  but  few  in  proportion  of  any  considerable  rank:  or  fortune.  This  is  a 
charge  which  the  lirstpreackers  of  the  Gospel  were  so  far  from  wishing  to 
deny  or  dissemble,  that  they  openly  avowed  and  gloried  in  itf-  Their  suc- 
cessors have  as  little  reason  to  be  afraid,  or  ashamed  of  acknowledging  the 
fuct  as  they  had  They  justly  consider  it  as  one  proof,  among  many  others  of 
that  aivitie  viisdtnn  which  superintended  and  conducted  the  progress  of  Chris- 
tianity in  a  way  so  difierent  from  vshat  Korhily  vcisdc^ii  would  have  dic- 
tated ;  beginning  with  the  cottage  and  ending  with  the  imperial  throne. 
lalse  religion  has  generally  reversed  this  order,  and  has  succeeded  ae» 
euadingly. 

t  1  Cor.  i.  26.  •  Mark  xvi.  15. 


382  SERMON  XXX. 

With  this  view  it  was,  that  The  Society  for  Promo- 
ting Christian  Kjiuwledge  was  first  instituted.  It 
breathes  the  true  spirit  ol"  Christiaiiity,  and  follows,  at 
a  humble  distance,  the  example  of  its  divine  Author, 
by  diffusing  the  light  of  the  Gospel  more  especially 
among  the  p.oor.  Tliis  is  its  peculiar  province  and 
employment  ;  and  there  are  tv.o  ways  in  v.hich  it  car- 
ries this  benevolent  purpose  into  execution. 

The  first  is,  by  encouraging  the  erection  of  charity, 
schools  in  every  part  of  the  kingdom,  and  by  supply- 
ing them  afterwards  \\  ith  proper  religious  instructions 
and  vvholsome  rules  for  their  direction  and  good  go- 
vernment. Tiie  fruit  of  these  its  pious  labors  and  ex- 
hortations in  this  cit_y,  and  its  neighborhood,  you  have 
now  before  your  eyes.  You  here  see  near  five  thou- 
sand children  collected  together  from  the  charity  schools 
in  and  about  London  and  Westminster.  A  spectacle 
this,  ^^ch  is  not  perhaps,  to  be  paralleled  in  any  other 
country  in  the  v/orld  ;  which  it  is  impossible  for  any 
man  of  the  least  sensibility  to  contemplate  without  emo- 
tions of  tenderness  and  delight ;  which  we  may  ven- 
ture to  say,  that  even  our  Lord  himself  (who  always 
showed  a  renrarkable  affection  for  children)  would  liave 
looked  on  with  complacency  ;  and  which  speaks  more 
forcibly  in  favor  of  this  branch  of  the  Society's  pater- 
nal care  and  attention,  than  any  arguments  for  it  that 
words  could  convey  to  you.*  I  shall  therefore,  only 
observe  on  this  head,  that  large  as  the  number  is  of  the 


charity  children  now  present  in  this  place,  it  bears  but 
a  small  proportion  to  the  whole  number  in  the  schools 
of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  which  exceeds  forty  t/jou- 
sand.  And  when  you  consider  that  this  Society  was 
the  original  promoter,  and  has  been  the  constant  patron 
and  protector  of  these  schools,  which  have  subsisted 

*  The  Trustees  of  the  charity-schocih  obtahied  permission  this  year,  for 
the  first  time,  to  range  the  children  (amounting  to  near  five  thousand)  in  a 
kind  of  temporary  amphitheatre  under  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  where  the  ser- 
vice was  performed,  and  the  sermon  preached,  the  congregation  occupying- 
the  area.  The  effect  of  so  large  a  number  of  children,  disposed  in  that  form, 
and  imiting  with  one  voice  in  tlie  responses  and  in  the  psalin-singing,  was 
wonderfully  pleasing  and  affecting.  This  practice  has  since  been  continued 
annually. 


SERMON  XXX,  385 

now  for  near  a  century  ;  that  the  children  educated  in 
them  are  taken  from  the  most  indigent  and  helpless 
class  of  people ;  that,  consequently,  uithout  these 
scliools,  they  w  oiild  probably  have  had  no  education  at 
all  ;  and  that  nothing  is  so  likely  to  preserve  them  from 
idlciKss,  beggary,  profligacy  and  misery,  as  impressing 
early  and  strongly  on  their  unoccupied  and  uncorrupt- 
cd  minds  sound  princij)les  of  piety,  industry,  honesty, 
and  sobriety  ;  you  will  be  sensible  that  the  Society 
has  adopted  a  plan  no  less  beneficial  to  the  public,  than 
coniformable  to  the  sentiments  of  tlie  great  Author  of 
our  Religion,  in  recommending  charity-schools  as  one 
very  eftectual  method  of"  preaching  the  Gospel  to  the 
*'  poor." 

But  the  Society  goes  still  further  than  this.  It  does 
not  confine  its  cares  merely  to  the  childhood  oi  the.  poor  ? 
it  follows  them,  with  unremitted  kindness,  through 
every  subsequent  period  of  their  lives.  It  is  the  guard 
of  their  youth,  the  companion  of  their  manhood,  the 
comfort  of  their  old  age.  The  principal  part  of  its 
employment  is  to  provide,  at  a  very  considerable  ex- 
pense, and  to  disperse  among  the  lower  people  of  all 
ages  and  occupations,  a  very  large  number  of  Bibles, 
Common  Praver- books,  and  small  tracts  on  a  variety 
of  religious  subjects,  composed  purposely  for  their  use 
by  men  of  eminent  piety  and  ability,  adapted  to  their 
capacities,  and  accomnwdated  to  all  thtir  various  spirit- 
ual wants.  In  tlieseare  explained  to  them,  in  the  clear- 
est and  most  familiar  terms,  the  first  grounds  and  ru- 
diments of  their  faith,  the  main  evidences  and  most 
essential  doctrines  of  Christianity,  the  several  duties  ' 
they  owe  to  God,  their  neighbor,  and  themselves,  and 
the  nature  and  benefits  of  the  two  Christian  sacraments. 
By  these,  also,  they  are  assisted  in  the  service  of  the 
church,  in  their  j^rivate  devotions,  in  reading,  under- 
standing, and  applying  the  Holy  Scriptures ;  are  sup- 
ported under  afilictions,  are  guarded  against  temptation, 
and  fortified  more  especially  against  those  vices  to 
uhichthe  poor  are  most  subject,  and  furnished  with 


384  SERMON  XXX. 

proper  cautions  and  arguments,  to  preserve  them  from 
the  artifices  of  popery,  and  thedehisions  of  enthusiasm^ 

This  is  a  short  sketch  of  the  several  objects  to  which 
the  governing  members  of  our  Society  have  directed 
their  attention,  and  the  provision  they  have  made  for 
the  instruction  of  the  ignorant  and  the  poor.  Of  the 
little  treatises  here  alluded  to,  some  might  undoubtedly 
be  much  improved,  and  some,  perhaps,  might  be  spa- 
red. But  many  of  them  are  excellent,  the  greatest  part 
extremely  useful,  and  calculated  to  do  essential  service 
to  that  rank  of  men  among  whom  they  are  distributed. 
Nor  is  the  benevolence  of  our  Society  restrt.ined  within 
the  limits  of  this  island  only.  Its  principal  object  is, 
indeed,  as  it  certainly  ought  to  be,  the  instruction  of 
our  own  poor  ;  but  it  has  occasionally  extended  its  kind 
assistance  to  other  countries,  both  neighboring  and  re- 
mote. It  has  established  schools  and  missions  in  vari- 
ous parts  of  the  East  Indies,  for  the  conversion  and  in- 
struction of  the  Heathens  ;  and  has  dispersed  among 
them  many  religious  tracts  in  the  Malabar  language. 
It  has  carried  its  regard  to  the  Greek  church  in  Pales- 
tine, Syria,  Mesopotamia,  Arabia,  and  Egypt.  For 
this  purpose  it  has  printed  the  New  Testament  and 
Psalter  in  Arabic,  and  has  already  sent  a  large  number 
of  both,  with  some  other  tracts,  into  Persia  and  India. 
It  has  published  tliree  several  editions  of  the  Bible  in 
the  Welsh  language,  and  distributed  them  through  eve- 
ry part  of  Wales,  to  the  amount  of  fifty  thousand  copies. 
It  has  made  provision  for  the  education  of  youth,  and  the 
due  celebration  of  divine  worship,  in  the  Scilly  islands, 
where  there  was  the  utmost  need  of  both  ;  and  it  has 
likevv'ise  printed  and  dispersed  over  the  Isle  of  Man 
many  thousand  copies  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament, 
of  the  Common  Prayer,  and  other  religious  books^  in 
the  vulgar  language  of  that  island. 

By  this  constant  attention  of  the  managers  of  the  So- 
ciety to  the  spiritual  wants  of  the  poor  in  many  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  ^^•orld,  as  well  as  at  home,  the  number 
of  religious  tracts  and  books  which  they  have  distribu- 
ted, from  their  first  institution  to  this  day,  is  so  im- 


SERMON  XXX.!  385 

Tnensely  great,  as  almost  to  exceed  belief*.  And  al- 
though, in  some  mstances,  the  success  of  their  endea- 
vors lias  not  fully  answered  their  expectations,  yet  there 
can  be  no  doubt  but  that  upon  the  whole  their  labors 
have  done  infinite  service  to  the  cause  of  Religion.  In- 
deed, all  the  clergy  who  are  members  of  the  Society, 
and  have  made  a  constant  and  discreet  use  of  their 
tracts,  can  bear,  and  many  of  them  ha'oe  borne,  ample 
testimony  to  the  advantages  resulting  from  them.  Next 
to  the  stated  offices  of  divine  worship,  and  the  regular 
instructions  from  the  pulpit,  it  is  evident,  that  nothing 
can  contribute  more  to  excite  and  keep  alive  a  due 
sense  of  Religion  in  the  minds  of  the  common  people, 
than  supplying  them  constantly  with  a  variety  of  well- 
composed  and  well-chosen  religious  treatises,  each  of 
them  judiciously  adapted  to  their  respective  necessi- 
ties. It  supplies,  in  some  degree  the  want  of  that  most 
useful  branch  of  ministerial  duty  which  has,  I  fear,  of 
late  years,  grown  but  too  much  into  disuse,  personal 
conference  ivith  our  parishioners  ;  for  which,  unless  we 
have  some  such  substitute  as  this,  we  shall  find,  proba- 
bly, that  our  public  instructions  will  produce  much  less 
effect  than  they  naturally  ought. 

There  is  another  argument  for  the  distribution  of 
small  religious  tracts  among  the  common  people,  which 
has,  I  think,  considerable  weight.  It  appears,  that  this 
is  the  very  mode  made  use  of  by  the  adversaries  of  our 
Religion,  in  order  to  undermine  and  destroy  it.  They 
consider  small  tracts  of  infidelity,  as  the  best  and  most 
effectual  method  of  disseminating  irreligion  among 
their  readers  and  admirers  ;  and  accordingly,  have  cm- 
ployed  all  their  talents  in  composing,  and  all  their  in- 
dustry in  dispersing  them  over  the  A\orldf. 

•  Even  within  the  last  fifty  years,  the  numbor  of  hooks  and  tracts  distrl- 
Wuted  by  them  has  amounted  lo  no  less  than  2,834,ori. 

t  It  is  certain,  that  M.  Voltaire,  in  particular,  has  written  innumerable 
little  pieces  against  Revelation  ;  that  he  prided  himself  greatly  in  having 
found  out  this  method  of  enligbtening  the  world :  and  that  he  was  highly  ap- 
plauded by  Mr.  D'Alembert  and  others  for  the  wisdom  and  prudence  of  his 
conduct  in  this  respect. 

Aaa 


386^  SERMON  XXX. 

Let  us  then  endeavor  to  foil  our  enemies  at  tlielr 
own  weapons,  which  will  surely  prove  more  powerful, 
and  more  successful,  in  the  hands  of  truth,  than  in 
those  of  error  ;  and  let  us  with  that  view,  give  all  pos- 
sible encouragement  to  a  Society,  which  is  instituted 
for  the  very  purpose  of  furnishing  us  with  a  constant 
supply  of  the  best  helps  towards  counteracting  the  per- 
nicious designs  of  those  who  "  set  themselves  against 
^'  us;"  who  make  use  of  every  artifice  to  deprive  us 
of  all  Religion,  or  to  introduce  a  corrupt  one. 

Inconsiderable  and  trivial  as  the  little  treatises  dis- 
persed by  the  Society  may  seem,  yet  it  is  by  the  re- 
peated efforts  of  such  small  instruments  as  these,  that 
the  greatest  effects  are  often  produced,-  Their  num- 
bers, their  plainness,  and  their  cheapness,  will  give 
them  a  force  and  efficacy,  and  extent  of  circula- 
tion, which  much  more  voluminous  and  more  labored 
compositions  may  not  be  able  to  acquire  ;  just  as  we 
see  that  the  lowest  and  humblest,  and  most  numerous 
bodies  of  men,  not  the  opulent  and  splendid  few,  are 
those  that  constitute  the  real  strength  and  wealth  of  the 
community. 

It  has  been  frequently  asserted,  that  it  is  philosophy, 
modern  philosophy,  which  has  enlightened  and  im- 
proved mankind.  But  whom  has  it  enlightened  and 
improved  ?  A  small  knot,  perhaps,  of  wits  and  philo- 
sophers,, and  learned  men  ;  but  how  have  the  multitude^ 
the  bulk  of  the  people,  those  who  really  constitute  the 
world,  been  enlightened  and  improved  ?  Do  they  read 
the  works  of  Boiingbroke,  of  D'Alembert,  of  Hume, 
or  of  Raynal  ?  Thanks  be  to  God  those  elaborate  and 
bulky  compositions  are  equally  beyond  their  under- 
standings to  comprehend,  their  leisure  to  peruse,  and 
their  ability  topurchase.  And  even  the  smaller  pieces 
above-mentioned  of  Voltaire  and  others,  are  not  cal- 
culated for  the  loix)est  classes  of  mankind,  but  for  men 
of  some  education  and  some  talents.  And  their  ob- 
ject is  not  to  inform,  but  to  perplex  and  mislead  ;  not 
to  convince  by  argument,  but  to  entertain  with  strokes 
of  wit  and  buffoonery.     Most  fortunately  for  mankind^ 


SERMON  XXX.  387 

the  miscliicf  of  such  writings  is  confined  (compara- 
tively speaking)  to  a  very  narrow  circle,  which  their 
admirers,  however,  are  pleased  to  dignify  with  the 
name  of  the  ivorld.  The  vulgar,  the  vile  populace, 
so  far  are  those  great  philosophers  from  desiring  to  in- 
struct and  reform,  that  they  think  them  utterly  unwor- 
thy of  a  reasonable  reiigio?i.  This  the  most  eminent  of 
their  fraternity  has  declared  in  express  terms*.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  Author  of  our  Religion  declares, 
that  he  came  '*to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor." — 
Here,  then,  you  see  opposed  to  each  other  the  spirit  of 
Christianity  and  the  spirit  of  Philosophy.  Judge 
ye  for  yourselves,  which  is  most  worthy  of  God  and  be- 
neficial to  man,  and  make  your  choice  accordingly.  If 
you  take  Philosophy  for  your  guide,  you  will  despise 
the  humble  employment  of  diffusing  religious  know- 
ledge among  the  common  people ;  but  if  you  chuse 
Christ  for  your  master,  you  will  give  a  proof  of  it 
this  day,  by  patronizing  a  Society  that  forms  itself  on 
his  model,  and  professes  to  carry  on  the  great  work  of 
reformation  which  He  begun,  in  the  very  Avay  \\  hich 
he  pointed  out,  "  by  preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  poor." 

•  M.  Voltaire,  speaking  of  certain  superstitious  sects  in  China,  has  these 
very  remarkable  words  :  "  Ces  sectes  sont  tolerees  a  la  Chine  p(Air  /'  usage 
*'  du  Vulgairi,  comme  des  alimens  grossiers  faits  pour  le  nourrir ;  tandis 
*•  que  les  magistrals  and  les  lettres,  separes  en  tout  du  peuple,  se  nourissent 
*' d'une  substance  plus  pure.  Ilsemble  en  effect  que  la  populace  ne  tnerite pat 
**  laie  reli^on  raisomiable."    Essw  sur  I'Histoije  GeneraJcj  torn.  i.  p.  33,  34. 


SERMON  XXXL 


1  Cor.  ix.  25. 

Every  man  that  striveth  for  the  mastery  is  temperate  in  all  things  - 
novj  they  do  it  to  obtain  a  corriijitible  cro-iVn,  but  ive  an  incor- 
ruptible. 

THE  design  of  this  passage  is  plainly  to  recommend 
the  great  Christian  duly  of  being  "  temperate  in 
all  things;"  that  is,  of  obtaining  an  entire  command 
over  our  passions  ;  or,  as  it  is  expressed  a  few  verses 
after,  of  "  keeping  under  our  bodies,  and  bringing 
*'  them  into  subjection."  This  self-government  is  in- 
dispensably necessary,  both  to  the  real  enjoyment  of  the 
present  life,  and  to  the  possession  of  everlasting  hap- 
piness in  the  next.  But  then,  like  every  thing  else  that 
is  valuable,  it  is  as  diihcult  to  acquire,  as  it  is  useful  and 
excellent  ;  and  it  stands  in  need  of  the  most  power- 
ful arguments  to  recomm.end  and  enforce  it.  One  of 
the  strongest  is  here  urged  by  St.  Paul.  To  raise  the 
courage  and  invigorate  the  resolution  of  the  Corinthi- 
ans, to  v/hom  the  Epistle  is  addressed,  and  of  all  others 
engaged  in  the  same  state  of  warfare  with  their  corrupt 
inclinations,  he  reminds  them  of  the  immortal  prize 
they  are  contending  for,  that  crown  of  glory  which  is 
to  recompence  their  virtuous  conflict.  And  to  give 
this  still  greater  weight,  he  compares  their  rewards  with 
those  proposed  to  the  competitors  in  the  well-known 
games  or  sports  which  were  celebrated  near  Corinth, 
In  these,  all  that  was  contended  for,  was  nothing  more 
than  "  a  corruptible  crcwn,"  a  wreath  composed  of 


SERMON  XXXr.  389 

perishable  leaves  :  whereas,  the  prize  of  the  Christian 
is  an  incorruptible  one,  a  crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not 
away,  an  eternity  of  real  and  substantial  happiness  in 
Heaven.  And  yet,  poor  and  contemptible  as  the  re- 
ward was  in  those  games,  they  who  strove  for  the  mas- 
tery in  them,  were  temperate  in  all  things,  were  con- 
tent to  exercise  the  strictest  discipline  and  abstemious- 
ness, to  abridge  themselves  both  in  the  quantity  and 
the  quality  of  their  diet,  to  renounce  every  pleasure 
and  every  indulgence  that  tended  to  weaken  the  body, 
and  voluntarily  to  undergo  many  hardsiiips  in  order  to 
prepare  themselves  for  the  contest,  and  "  to  run  so  that 
*'  they  might  obtain."  How  is  it  possible,  then,  after 
this,  for  the  Christian  to  complain  of  the  difficulties  he 
has  to  encounter  in  this  his  state  of  probation,  and 
when  celestial  rewards  are  held  up  to  his  view,  to  shrink 
from  the  severities  throuQ-h  which  he  must  arrfvc  at 
them  ?  If  he  has  any  honest  ambition  in  his  nature, 
will  he  not  emulate  the  ardor  and  activity  of  these  Gre- 
cian combatants  ?  Will  he  not  cheerfully  go  through 
a  similar  course  of  preparatory  discipline  ?  Will  he  not 
impose  upon  himself  a  little  moderation  in  his  plea- 
sures, a  little  self-government  and  self-denial  ?  Will  he 
not  contentedly  give  up  a  few  trivial  indulgences,  and 
transient  gratifications,  in  order  to  secure  a  prize  infi- 
nitely more  glorious  than  theirs  ;  a  croAvn  incorruptible, 
felicity  eternal,  commensurate  to  the  existence,  and 
suited  to  the  capacity  of  an  immortal  soul  ? 

To  this  irresistible  strength  of  argument  St.  Paul 
subjoins,  as  an  additional  motive,  his  own  example. 
*'  I  therefore,"  says  he,  "  so  run,  not  as  uncertainly," 
not  heedlessly  and  ignorantly,  but  with  a  perfect  know- 
ledge of  the  course  I  am  to  pursue,  the  rules  I  am  to 
observe,  the  prize  I  am  to  aim  at,  and  the  conditions 
on  which  it  is  to  be  attained.  I  do  not  act  at  random, 
but  upon  sure  grounds.  My  views  are  steadily  fixed 
on  the  grand  point,  and  I  press  forwards  in  the  way 
marked  out  with  unwearied  vigor  and  perseverance. 
-"  So  fight  I,  not  as  one  that  beateth  the  air."  In  this 
Christian  combat  I  do  not  mis- spend  my  activity,  arid 


S90  SERMON  XXXI. 

exert  my  powers  to  no  purpose ;  I  do  not  fight  with 
my  own  shadow,  or  with  an  imaginary  antagonist*, 
wasting  my  strength  on  the  empty  air  ;  but  I  strive  for 
the  mastery  in  good  earnest ;  I  consider  myself  as  ha- 
ving r€al  enemies  to  combat,  the  world,  the  flesh,  and 
the  devil  ;  I  know  that  my  life,  my  salvation,  my  all, 
is  at  stake  ;  and  therefor€,  in  imitation  of  the  competi- 
tors in  the  Isthmian  game,  I  exercise  a  strict  govern- 
ment over  myself;  I  subdue  my  rebellious  passion^ 
by  continual  acts  of  self-denial  ;  "  I  keep  under  my  bo- 
"  dy,  and  bring  it  into  subjection,"  lest  that  by  any 
means,  when  I  have  preached  to  others,  I  myself  should 
be  a  castaway. 

Such  is  the  reasoning  of  this  eloquent  apostle  at 
large ;  and  it  behoves  us  all  to  pay  due  attention  to  it ; 
for,  though  in  one  circumstance  we  do  not  all  resemble 
him,  are  not  all  appointed  to  preach  to  others  ;  yet  are 
we  all,  like  him,  engaged  in  the  Christian  conflict  with 
passion  and  temptation ;  and  must,  like  him,  either 
come  ofli*  victorious  in  it,  and  gain  the  prize,  or  be 
sliamefully  subdued,  and  lose  our  own  souls. 

Ever  since  the  unhappy  fall  of  our  first  parents,  and 
the  confusion  introduced  by  it  into  our  moral  frame, 
the  passions  have  acquired  so  much  strength  and  bold- 
ness, that  they  aspire  to  nothing  less  than  an  absolute 
sovereignty  over  the  soul  ;  and  we  are  reduced  to  the 
necessity  of  either  governing  them,  or  being  governed 
by  them.  This  is  literally  the  choice  proposed  to  us 
at  our  first  entrance  into  life ;  and  it  concerns  us  to 
weigh  and  consider  it  well ;  for  we  can  never  de- 
cide on  a  question  of  more  importance.  It  is  this 
chiefly  that  must  determine  us  to  virtue  and  happi- 
ness, or  to  vice  and  misery.  For  nothing  can  be 
more  clear,  than  that  far  the  greater  part  of  the 
evils  we  suffer  ourselves,  and  of  those  we  bring  upon 
others,  arise  from  the  dominion  of  our  passions. 
"  From  whence  come  wars  and  fightings  among  you  ? 
^'  Come  they  not  hence,  even  of  your  lusts,  which 
*'  war  in  your  members  ?"  From  whence  come  mur- 
<fders,  robberies,  oppression,  and  fraud  ?  Whence  come 

•  See  the  commentators. 


i 


SITRMON  XXXr.  591 

brcaeTies  of  friendship  and  hospitality,  violations  of  the 
marriage-bed,  ruin,  infamy,  and  remorse  to  unguarded 
innocence,  confusion  and  distress  to  whole  families,  the 
destruction  of  our  own  health  and  repose,  the  dissipa- 
tion of  our  fortunes,  and  the  consequent  wretchedness- 
of  all  that  look  up  to  us  for  support  ?  Do  not  all  these, 
and  an  infinite  number  of  other  calamities,  spring  solely 
from  the  brutal  violence  of  headstrong  and  unruly  de- 
sires, bursting  forth  like  a  torrent  upon  mankind,  throw- 
ing down  every  obstacle,  and  breaking  through  every 
the  most  sacred  fence  that  opposes  itself  to  their  im- 
petuous course  ? 

Such  are  the  mischiefs  which  daily  folIov»r  from  suf- 
fering them  to  gain  the  ascendancy  ;  and  such  we  have 
to  expect  from  it  ourselves.  There  is,  in  fact,  no  drud- 
gery upon  earth  like  that  of  serving  the  passions.  Of  all 
tyrants  in  the  world,  they  are  the  most  imrelenting  and 
insupportable.  They  will  utterly  debase  and  unman 
the  soul  ;  debilitate  and  obscure  its  noblest  powers  ; 
force  their  natural  sovereign  reason  to  submit  to  the 
meanest  offices,  and  most  scandalous  artifices,  for  their 
gratification  ;  compel  us  to  resign  up  our  truest  inte- 
rests, our  most  solid  comforts,  our  most  valuable  ex- 
pectations ;  nay,  even  to  invent  principles  to  justify 
their  extravagancies,  to  reject  the  revelation  that  con- 
demns them,  to  strip  ourselves  of  all  claim  to  immor- 
tality, to  doubt  every  thing,  to  dispute  every  thing  ex- 
cept their  commands. 

To  avoid  these  dreadful  mischiefs,  which  are  by  na 
means  exaggerated,  there  is  no  other  way  left,  but  to 
resolve  with  St.  Paul,  on  "  keeping  under  our  body, 
''  and  bringing  it  into  subjection."  But  this,  too, 
though  attended  at  the  last  M'ith  the  happiest  conse- 
quences, is  not,  however,  without  its  difficulties. 
These,  indeed,  to  all  are  not  the  same  ;  there  is,  un- 
doubtedly, a  difference  in  the  constitution  of  our  minds* 
as  well  as  of  our  bodies  ;  and  some  men  are  blest  with 
such  singularly  happy  dispositions,  such  sober  desires, 
such  tractable  and  obedient  inclinations,  that,  with  a 
common  degree  of  prudence  and  circumspection,  and 


592  SERMON  XXXL 

Christian  discipline,  they  preserve  the  utmost  tranquil- 
lity and  order  in  the  soul,  go  on  uniformly,  and  almost 
without  interruption,  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty, 
and  find  the  ways  of  Religion  "  to  be  ways  of  pleasant- 
"  ness,  and  all  her  paths  to  be  peace."  Blest,  indeed, 
beyond  measure,  are  such  persons  as  these,  infinitely 
better  provided,  for  the  journey  of  life,  and  infinitely 
better  furnished  with  the  proper  materials  of  happiness 
than  those  who  are  generally  much  more  envied,  but 
with  much  less  reason  ;  those  who  are  favored  with 
riches,  genius,  rank,  or  power.  These  are  contempti- 
ble things  compared  to  the  inconceivable  comfort  of  a 
well-ordered  mind,  and  well-governed  affections,  which, 
in  a  work  of  infinite  importance  that  must  be  done, 
leave  us  nothing  but  what  it  is  extremely  easy  to  do. 
But  with  the  generality  of  mankind,  this  is  far  from 
being  the  case.  Almost  every  one  finds  within  him- 
self some  one  unruly  passion  at  least,  which  is  conti- 
nually disturbing  his  repose,  and  endangering  his  inno- 
cence ;  and  which,  without  the  utmost  vigilance  and 
resolution,  he  finds  it  impossible  to  subdue.  Even  he 
who  '^  delights  in  the  law  of  God  after  the  inward  man, 
*'  frequently  sees  another  law  in  the  outward  man,  war- 
*'  ring  against  the  law  of  his  mind,  and  bringing  it  in- 
"  to  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin."  Unable  to  rescue 
himself  from  this  wretched  slavery,  and  equally  unable 
to  support  the  consequences  of  submitting  to  it,  no 
wonder  if  such  an  one,  in  the  utmost  agony  of  mind, 
cries  out  with  St.  Paul  in  his  assumed  character, 
"  Wretched  man  that  I  am!  who  shall  deliver  me 
*'  from  the  bod}^  of  this  death  ?"  Thanks  be  to  God, 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  ;  there  is  one  that  can, 
and  will  deliver  vou,  even  the  Redeemer  that  died  for 
you.  He  it  is  who  will  do  what  no  other  moral  guide 
can  do  for  you  ;  will  both  enable  you,  by  additional 
supplies  of  strength,  to  overcome  those  lusts  which  war 
against  your  soul,  and  will  also  crown  that  victory  by 
a  reward  more  than  adequate  to  the  pain  of  the  con- 
flict. If  Christianity  requires  from  its  votaries  a  high- 
er degree  of  sanctity  and  purity^  and  a  stricter  com- 


SERMON  XXXI.  393 

mand  over  the  passions  than  any  other  Religion,  it  has 
a  right  to  do  so  ;  because  it  affords  proportionably 
greater  helps  towards  accomplishing  that  great  work, 
and  a  proportionably  greater  prize  to  rccompence  the 
labor  of  it.  For  however  severe  this  st^ggle  with 
our  appetites  may  be  to  us,  and  severe  enough,  God 
knows,  it  sometimes,  is,  yet  it  is  our  comfort,  that  if 
we  endure  to  the  end,  "  those  light  afflictions  which 
"  are  but  for  a  moment,  shall  work  for  us  a  far  more 
*'  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory."  This  single 
consideration  is  enough  to  make  us  "  more  than  con- 
*'  querors  through  Christ  that  strengtheneth  us."  For 
Avho  that  has  in  view  immortal  joys  and  incorruptible 
crownSj  can  repine  at  the  conflict  he  must  go  through 
to  obtain  them  ?  Who,  that  professes  himself  in  earnest 
a  disciple  of  Christ)  can  murmur  at  the  hardship  of 
mortifying  his  passions,  when  even  they  who  strive  for 
the  mastery  in  the  most  trivial  contests,  and  for  the 
silliest  rewards,  are  temperate  in  all  things  ?  The  in- 
stance produced  in  the  text  to  prove  this,  was  full  to 
the  purpose,  was  peculiarly  calculated  to  strike  the 
Corinthians,  being  a  familiar,  and,  as  it  were,  domestic 
fact,  within  the  compass  of  their  own  observation.  Its 
force  is  very  little,  if  at  all,  abated,  when  applied  to 
ourselves  ;  but  if  we  have  a  mind  for  similar  instances 
nearer  home,  they  are  to  be  found  in  abundance.  We 
may  see  numbers  of  our  fellow-creatures,  on  every  side 
of  us,  undergoing  the  greatest  labors  and  inconve- 
niences in  pursuit  of  the  most  trivial  and  worthless  ob- 
jects. We  see  the  vicious  man  frequently  taking  more 
pain!i,  and  struggling  through  greater  distresses,  in  or- 
der to  gratify  his  passions,  than  it  vrould  cost  him  to 
subdue  theni.  We  see  the  avaricious  man  tormenting 
himself  with  continual  care  and  anxiety,  submitting  to 
the  meanest  and  most  sordid  artifices  to  acquire  wealth 
and  to  retain  it ;  practising  severer  mortifications  than 
the  utmost  rigor  of  monastic  discipline  would  exact, 
denying  himself  not  only  the  most  innocent  gratifica- 
tions, but  the  common  necessaries  of  life  ;  and  some- 
times even  perishing  for  want  in  the  midst  of  abundance. 

B  b  b 


394,  SERMON  XXXI. 

And  what  is  the  great  object  of  all  this  voluntary  sel& 
denial  ?  It  is  to  amass  a  hoard  of  wealth  which  he  has 
not  the  spirit  to  use  in  this  world,  nor  the  power  of 
carrying  with  him  into  the  next. 

We  see  others  who  cannot  justly  be  charged  with 
avarice  ;  yet  stimulated  by  the  ambition  of  raising 
themselves  and  their  families  to  opulence  and  distinc- 
tion, and  with  that  view  sacrificing  their  youth,  their 
ease,  their  health,  their  comfort,  the  best  and  happiest 
part  of  their  days,  to  the  labor  of  some  most  pain- 
ful employment,  which  at  last,  perhaps,  rewards 
thern  with  a  fortune,  when  disease,  or  old  age,  or  death, 
render  them  incapable  of  enjoying  it. 

We  see  the  man  of  adventure  and  of  enterprize  pe- 
netrating the  most  remote  and  inhospitable  reigions  of 
the  earth,  exposing  himself  to  unwholesome  climates 
and  untried  oceans,  encountering  the  dangers  of  rocks 
and  tempests,  of  famine  and  disease,  of  treachery  and 
violence  from  unrelenting  savages  ;  and  all  this  in  the 
pursuit  of  knowledge  or  of  emolument,  which  seldom 
answer  his  expectations,  or  of  a  visionary  fame,  which 
perhaps  commences  not,  till  he  is  gone  "  to  that  land 
"  where  all  things  are  forgotten." 

These  are  instances  of  self-denial  which  we  have 
every  day  before  our  eyes  ;  and  shall  we,  then,  be  de- 
terred from  the  pursuit  of  our  eternal  interests,  and  of 
immortal  glory,  by  the  restraints  and  the  difficulties 
attending  our  Christian  warfare,  when  we  see  men 
voluntarily  and  cheerfully  encountering  far  greater 
hardships,  and  far  severer  trials  for  the  sake  of  acqui- 
ring what  appears  to  them  most  valua!:>le  in  this  life, 
but  which  they  find  in  the  end  to  be  delusive  and  un- 
satisfactory ? 

It  is,  in  short,  a  vain  and  a  foolish  attempt  to  think 
of  separating,  in  any  instance,  great  labor  and  difficulty 
from  great  attainments.  And  the  more  vaUiable  the 
acquisition,  the  more  •  severe  are  the  hardships  that 
obstruct  the  way  to  it.  The  lowest  mechanic  arts  can 
never  be  carried  to  any  degree  of  perfection  without 
much  toil  ;  works  of  imagination,  intellectual  accom- 


SERMON  XXXI.  395 

plishments,  require  still  more  ;  virtue  and  religion,  as 
being  the  greatest  ornaments  of  our  nature,  most  of  all. 
But  then  the  reward  is  in  proportion  to  the  labor  ;  and 
to  renounce  the  one  through  a  cowardly  fear  of  the 
other,  is  one  of  the  meanest  thoughts  that  can  enter 
the  human  mind. 

It  is  hard  sometimes,  it-is  conftfssedly  hard,  to  deny 
a  craving  appetite,  and  to  subdue  a'  vicious  habit  ;  but 
is  it  not  still  harder  to  lose  everlasting  happiness  for  a 
momentary  indulgence  ;  and,  like  the  wretched  Esau, 
to  sell  Heaven  in  reversion  for  a  mess  of  pottage  ? 

Let  us  eat  and  drink,  says  the  voluptuary  ;  let  us  in- 
dulge  without  delay,  and  without  reserve,  every  appe- 
tite of  our  nature,  for  *'  to-morrow  we  die,"  to-mor- 
row we  may  cease  to  exist,  and  all  possibility  of  any 
further  enjo}^ment  will  be  for  ever  gone.  Let  us,  then, 
take  our  full  measure  of  it  while  we  can.  "  Let  us 
"enjoy  the  good  things  that  are  present.  Let  us  fill 
"  ourselves  with  costly  wines  and  ointments  ;  and 
*'  let  no  flower  of  the  spring  pass  by  us.  Let  us 
"  crown  ourselves  with  rose-buds  before  they  be 
"  withered.  Let  none  of  us  go  without  his  part  of 
"  our  voluptuousness.  Let  us  leave  tokens  of  our 
"  joy  fulness  in  every  place ;  for  this  is  our  portion, 
**  and  our  lot  is  this*."  This  language  cannot  be 
wondered  at,  from  the  man  who  rejects  all  idea  of  a 
future  existence.  But  it  would  be  folly  and  madness 
in  him,  who  believes  the  Christian  doctrine  of  a  re- 
surrection, and  a  retribution  in  another  world.  To 
him  the  conclusion,  from  the  very  same  premises,  must 
be  a  directly  opposite  one.  It  must  be  plainly  this  ; 
Let  us  keep  our  hearts  with  all  diligence,  and  restrain 
our  passions  within  the  bounds  of  duty,  for  to-morrow 
we  may  die  ;  to-morrow  we  may  be  called  to  give  an  ac- 
count of  our  moral  conduct  to  the  great  Sovereign  of  the 
Universe,  who  has  peremptorily  commanded  us  to  be 
temperate  in  all  things.  Let  this  consideration,  then, 
be  deeply  fixed  in  our  hearts,  and  be  constantly  present 
to  our  thoughts,  and  it  will,  in  the  hour  of  trial,  add 

•  Wisdom  ji.  6.  10. 


396  SERMON  XXXI. 

strength  to  our  resolutions,  and  fortitude  to  our  souls. 
It  is  not,  it  must  be  confessed,  a  very  easy  task  to 
keep  that  strict  and  steady  command  over  ourselves 
which  Christianity  requires.  But  we  must  not  be 
much  surprized,  if  the  rewards  of  Heaven  are  not  to 
be  had  for  nothing.  Immortal  glory,  and  everlasting 
felicity,  are  not  such  very  trivial  things,  as  to  be  ob- 
tained without  any  exertions  on  our  part.  Some  price 
must  surely  be  paid  for  such  an  acquisition,  something 
must  be  given  up  in  present  for  an  inheritance  of  such 
infinite  value  in  future.  "  There  is  but  one  paradise 
*'  for  men,"  said  Mahomet,  (turning  away  his  eyes 
from  the  tempting  prospect  of  Damascus)  "  there  is 
*'  but  one  paradise  for  men,  and,  fo?  my  part,  I  will 
*'  not  take  mine  in  this  world*."  If  this  sensual  im- 
postor could,  in  this  instance  at  least,  sacrifice  present 
gratification  even  to  his  false  notions  of  future  happi- 
ness, well  may  we  be  content  to  endure  a  litde  tempo- 
rary self-denial  for  the  sake  of  a  recompence  hereafter, 
perfect  in  its  nature,  and  endless  in  its  duration.  It  is 
true,  indeed,  that  taking  all  things  into  the  account,  the 
yoke  of  our  divine  Master  is  easy,  and  his  burthen  is 
light.  Yet  still  there  is  a  yoke,  there  is  a  burthen  to 
bear.  We  are  to  take  up  our  cross,  and  on  that  cross 
we  are  to  crucify  our  affections  and  lusts.  In  the  suc- 
cessive stages  of  our  existence  here,  successive  adver^ 
saries  rise  up  to  oppose  our  progress  to  Heaven,  and 
bring  us  into  captivity  to  sin  and  misery.  Pleasure, 
interest,  business,  power,  honor,  fame,  all  the  follies  and 
all  the  corruptions  of  this  world,  each  in  their  turn,  assail 
our  feeble  nature,  and  through  these  we  must  manfully 
fight  our  way  to  the  great  end  we  have  in  view.  But  the 
difficulty  and  the  pain  of  this  contest  will  be  infinitely  les- 
sened, by  a  resolute  and  vigorous  exertion  of  our  powers, 
jind  our  resources  at  our  first  setting  out  in  life.  If  we 
strenuously  resist  those  enemies  of  our  salvation  that 
present  themselves  to  us  in  our  earliest  youth,  all  the 
rest  that  follow  in  our  mature  age  will  be  an  easy  con- 
quest.    On  him,  who  in  the  beginning  of  life  has  kept 

*  Maundrell,  p.  121. 


SERMON  XXXr.  397 

himself  unspotted  from  the  world,  all  its  subseo/ient 
attractions  and  allurements,  all  its  magnificence,  Avealth, 
and  splendor,  will  make  litde  or  no  impression.  A 
mind  that  has  been  long  habituated  to  discipline,  re- 
straint, and  self-command,  amidst  far  more  powerful 
temptations,  will  have  nothing  to  apprehend  from  such 
assailants  as  these.  But  our  great  and  principal  secu- 
rity is  assistance  from  above,  which  will  never  be  denied 
to  those  who  fervently  apply  for  it.  And  with  the  om- 
nipotence of  divine  grace  to  support  us,  and  an  eter- 
nity of  happiness  to  reward  us,  what  is  there  that  can 
shake  our  constancy,  or  corrupt  our  fidelity  ? 

Set  yourselves,  then,  without  delay,  to  acquire  an 
early  habit  of  strict  self-government,  and  an  early  in- 
tercourse with  your  Almighty  Protector.  Let  it  be 
your  first  care  to  establish  the  sovereignty  of  reason, 
and  the  empire  of  grace,  over  your  souls,  and  it  will 
soon  be  no  pain  to  you  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  real 
pleasure  "  to  be  temperate  in  all  things."  Watch  ye, 
stand  fast  in  the  faith,  quit  yourselves  like  men,  be 
strong,  be  resolute,  be  patient.  Look  frequendy  up  to 
the  prize  that  is  set  before  you,  lest  ye  be  wearied  and 
faint  in  your  minds.  Consider,  that  every  pang  you 
feel  on  account  of  your  duty  here,  will  be  placed  to 
your  credit,  and  increase  your  happiness,  hereafter. 
The  conflict  with  your  passions  will  grow  less  irksome 
every  day,  a  few  years  will  put  an  entire  end  to  it,  and 
you  will  then,  to  your  unspeakable  comfort,  be  enabled 
to  cry  out  with  St.  Paul,  "  I  have  fought  a  good  fight, 
"  I  have  finished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the  faith. 
*'  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  right- 
"  eousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  Judge,  shall 
'*  give  me  at  that  day." 


SERMON  XXXII. 


Matthew  xxvii.   54. 


Truly  this  tuas  the  Son  of  God. 


WE  have  here  a  testimony  of  the  divine  character 
of  our  blessed  Lord,  which  must  be  considered 
as  in  the  highest  degree  impartial  and  incorrupt.  It  is 
the  testimony  not  of  friends,  but  of  enemies  ;  not  of 
those  who  were  prepossessed  in  favor  of  Christ  and  his 
Religion,  but  of  those  who,  by  habit  and  education, 
were  prejudiced,  and  strongly  prejudiced  against  them. 
It  is,  in  short,  the  voice  of  nature  and  of  truth  ;  the 
honest  unpremeditated  confession  of  the  heathen  centu- 
rion, and  the  soldiers  under  him,  whom  the  Roman 
governor  had  appointed  as  a  guard  over  the  crucifixion 
of  our  Lord.  So  forcibly  struck  were  these  persons 
with  the  behavior  of  Jesus,  and  the  astonishing  cir- 
cumstances attending  his  death,  that  they  broke  out 
involuntarily  into  the  exclamation  of  the  text,  *'  Truly 
*'  this  was  the  Son  of  God." 

Different  opinions,  it  is  well  known,  have  been  en- 
tertained by  learned  men  concerning  the  precise  sense 
in  which  the  centurion  understood  Christ  to  be  tbe  Son 
of  God.  But  without  entering  here  into  any  critical 
niceties  (which  do  not  in  the  least  affect  the  main  ob- 
ject of  this  discourse)  I  shall  only  observe  in  general, 
that  even  after  making  every  abatement  which  either 
grammatical  accuracy,  or  parallel  passages,  may  seem 
to  require,  the  very  lowest  meaning  we  can  affix  to  the 


SERMON  XXXII.  399 

text,  in  any  degree  consistent  with  the  natural  force  of 
the  language,  and  the  magnitude  of  the  occasion  is  this:, 
that  the  centurion,  comparing  together  every  thing  he 
had  seen,  and  rising  in  his  expressions  of  admiration, 
as  our  Lord's  encreasing  magnanimity  grew  more  and 
more  upon  his  observation,  concluded  him  to  be  not 
only  a  person  of  most  extraordinary  virtue,  and  most 
transcendent  righteousness,  but  of  a  nature  more  than 
human,  and  bearing  evident  marks  of  a  divine  original. 

That  his  conclusion  went  at  least  so  far  as  this,  will 
appear  highly  probable  from  considering  the  two  dis- 
tinct grounds  on  which  it  was  founded. 

The  first  was,  the  attention  with  which  the  centuri* 
on  appears  to  have  marked  the  whole  behavior  of  our 
Lord  during  the  dreadful  scene  he  passed  through, 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his  suftbrings  upon 
the  cross.  He  placed  himself,  as  St.  Mark  informs 
us,  over  against  Jesus.  From  that  station  he  kept  his 
eye  constantly  fixed  upon  him,  and  observed,  with 
anxious  care,  every  thing  he  said  or  did.  And  when 
he  saw  the  meekness,  the  patience,  the  resignation,  the 
firmness,  with  which  our  Lord  endured  the  most  ex- 
cruciating torments;  when  he  heard  him  at  one  time 
praying  fervently  for  his  murderers  ;  at  another  dis- 
posing, with  dignity  and  authority,  of  a  place  in  para- 
dise, to  one  of  his  fellow-sufferers  ;  and,  at  length, 
with  that  confidence  which  nothing  but  conscious  vir- 
tue, and  conscious  divinity,  could,  at  such  a  time,  in. 
spire,  recommending  his  spirit  into  the  hands  of  his 
heavenly  Father ;  from  these  circumstances,  what 
other  inference  could  the  centurion  draw  than  that 
Jesus  was  not  merely  a  righteous  but  a  heavenly-born 
person  ? 

But  there  was  another,  and  that  a  still  more  power- 
ful proof  of  our  Lord's  celestial  origin,  which  offered 
itself  to  the  centurion's  notice  ;  I  mean  the  astonishing 
events  that  took  place  when  Jesus  expired  ;  the  agita- 
tion into  which  all  nJ\ture  seemed  to  be  thrown,  the 
darkness,  the  earthquake,  the  rending  of  rocks,  the 
opening  of  graves,  miracles  which  the  centurion  con- 


400  SERMON  XXXII. 

ceived,  and  justly  conceived,   were  not  likely  to  be 
wrought  on  the  death  of  a  7nere  mortal*. 

And,  indeed,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  the 
miracles  recorded,  and  the  prophecies  accomplished, 
in  iJie  history  of  Christ,  are  the  two  great  pillars  on 
which  our  faith  in  him  must  principally  rest.  But  as 
an  enquiry  into  this  sort  of  proof,  would  lead  us  into 
an  argument  much  too  extensive  and  too  complex  for 
our  present  purpose,  I  shall  content  myself  with  en-- 
larging  a  little  on  that  other  kind  of  evidence  above- 
mentioned,  the  character  and  conduct  of  our  divine 
Master.  Of  this  the  centurion  saw  nothing  more  per- 
liaps  than  the  closing  scene.  And  if  this  operated  so 
forcibly,  as  it  seems  to  have  done,  on  his  mind,  how 
powerfully  must  ours  be  affected,  b}^  taking  into  the  ac- 
count the  virtues  which  Jesus  displayed  through  life, 
as  well  as  those  he  manifested  at  his  death  ?  We  may 
reasonably  expect,  that  it  will  at  once  confirm  the  feith 
of  those  who  believe,  and  produce  conviction  in  those 
who  do  not. 

Were  we  only  to  say  of  our  Saviour,  what  even  Pi- 
late said  of  him,  that  we  can  find  no  fault  in  h'lm^  that 
the  whole  temper  of  his  soul,  and  the  whole  tenor  of 
his  life,  were  absolutely  blameless  throughout;  that 
from  the  first  moment  of  his  birth,  to  his  last  agony  on 
the  cross,  he  never  once  fell  into  the  smallest  error  of 
conduct,  never  once  spake  unadvisedly  with  his  lips  ; 
were  we,  I  say,  to  confine  ourselves  solely  to  this  nega- 
tive kind  of  excellence,  it  is  more  than  can  be  said  of 
any  other  person  that  ever  }'et  came  into  the  world. 
But  great  and  uncommon  as  even  this  sort  of  perfec- 
tion is,  it  forms  but  a  very  small  part  of  that  which 
belonged  to  Jesus.  He  was  not  only  exempt  from  eve- 
ry the  slightest  failing,  but  he  possessed  and  practised 
every  imaginable  virtue  that  was  consistent  with  his 
situation  ;  and  that^  too,  in  the  highest  degree  of  ex- 
cellence to  which  virtue  is  capable  of  being  exalted. 
That  idea  of  complete  goodness  which  the  ancient  phi- 
loso])hers  took  so  much  fruitless  pains  to  describe,  and 

*  Sec  Dr.  Dodilridje's  n'Jte  fioni^F.Kiier  in  his  exposition  of  this  passage. 


SERMON  XXXII.  401 

which  they  justly  thought  would  so  strongly  attract  the 
affections  of  men  if  it  could  be  made  visible,  was  in 
the  person  of  the  Holy  Jesus,  and  /;/  }jim  only^  since 
the  world  began,  presented  to  the  eyes  of  mankind. 
His  ardent  love  for  God,  his  zeal  for  the  service,  his 
resignation  to  the  will,  his  unreserved  obedience  to 
the  commands  of  his  heavenly  Father ;  the  compas- 
sion, the  kindness,  the  solicitude,  the  tenderness,  he 
showed  for  the  whole  human  race,  even  for  the  worst 
of  sinners  and  the  bitterest  of  his  enemies  ;  the  perfect 
command  he  had  over  his  own  passions  ;  the  consum- 
mate prudence  with  which  he  eluded  all  the  snares  that 
were  laid  for  him  ;  the  wisdom,  the  justness,  the  deli- 
cacy of  his  replies  ;  the  purity  and  the  gentleness  of  his 
manners  :  the  sweetness  yet  dignity  of  his  deportment; 
the  mildness  with  which  he  reproved  the  mistakes,  the 
prejudices,  and  the  failings  of  his  disciples;  the  tem- 
per he  preserved  under  the  severest  provocations  from 
his  enemies  ;  the  patience,  tlie  composure,  the  meek- 
ness, with  which  he  endured  the  cruellest  insults,  and 
the  grossest  indignities  ;  the  fortitude  he  displayed  un- 
der the  most  painful  and  ignominious  death  that  hu- 
man ingenuity  could  devise,  or  human  malignity  inflict; 
and  that  divinely  charitable  prayer  w  hich  he  put  up  for 
his  murderers  in  the  very  midst  of  his  agony  :  "  Father, 
"  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do  :"  all 
these,  and  a  multitude  of  other  peculiar  excellencies  in 
his  character,  (which  it  is  impossible  here  to  enume- 
rate,) concur  to  render  him,  beyond  comparison,  the 
greatest,  the  wisest,  and  the  best,  of  men. 

Considered  more  particularly  as  a  public  teacher, 
what  an  understanding  must  that  have  been,  and  whence 
enlightened,  from  which  so  sublime  and  perfect  a  sys- 
tem of  piety  and  morals,  as  that  of  the  Gospel,  proceed- 
ed, excelling  not  only  all  the  discoveries  of  men,  and 
the  most  perfect  systems  of  Pagan  morality,  but  all  the 
revelations  of  God  made  before  him*. 

•  For  the  principal  and  most  valuable  part  of    the    six  following-  pages,  I 
am  iiidcWteJ  to  my  Ivite  «.\tellent  friend  and  patron  Archbi»hop  Seeker. 

C  c  c 


402  SERMON  XXXTL 

But  farther  still.  How  astonishing,  and  from  what 
source  inspired,  must  the  mind  of  that  man  be,  who 
could  entertain  so  vast  a  thought  in  so  low  a  condition, 
as  that  of  instructing  and  reforming  a  %vhole  world  ;  a 
\\  orld  divided  between  atheism  and  superstition,  but 
imiversally  abandoned  to  sin  ;  of  teaching  the  whole 
race  of  mankind  to  live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly 
here,  and  leading  them  on  to  an  eternity  of  happiness 
hereafter  ?  How  contemptible  a  figure  do  they,  who 
affected  to  be  the  conquerors  of  the  world,  make,  when 
compared  Vvith  him  who  undertook  to  be  the  saviour  of 
it  ?  Then,  in  the  execution  of  this  immense  design, 
what  condescension  without  meanness,  what  majesty 
without  pride,  what  firmness  without  obstinacy,  what 
zeal  without  bitterness  or  enthusiasm,  what  piety  with- 
out superstition ;  how  wonderful  a  combination  of 
seemingly  most  opposite,  if  any  cQuld  be  opposite,  vir- 
tues ;  how  exact  a  temperature  of  every  thing  great^= 
and  venerable,  and  lovely,  in  his  soul !  And  another 
very  important  and  remarkable  consideration  is,  that  all 
these  admirable  qualities  appeared  perfectly  easy  and 
natural  to  him,  and  seemed  not  to  require  the  least  exer- 
tion of  his  mind  to  produce  or  to  support  them.  And 
the  case  was  the  same  in  his  discourses  and  his  instruc- 
tions. No  emotion  when  he  delivered  the  most  sublime 
and  affecting  doctrines,-  the  most  comfortable  or  most 
terrifying  predictions.  The  prophets  before  him  faint- 
ed and  sunk  under  the  communications  which  they  re- 
ceived from  above.  But  truths  that  overwhelmed  the 
ser'Qants  of  God,  were  familiar  to  his  Son,  Composed 
on  the  grestest  occasions,  respectable  even  on  the  least,, 
he  was  at  all  times  the  same  ;  and  the  uniform  dignity 
and  propriety  of  his  behavior  throughout,  evidently 
flowed  from  the  inbred  grandeur  and  rectitude  of  his 
mind.  Tried  he  was  every  way  (and  that  in  so  public 
a  life  perpetually)  by  wicked  men,  by  the  wicked  one, 
by  friends  as  well  as  by  enemies ;  but  far  from  being 
overcome,  never  once  disconcerted,  never  once  embar- 
rassed, but  calmly  superior  to  every  artifice,  to  every 
temptation^  to  every  difficulty.. 


SERMON  XXXII.  403 

Well,  then,  may  we  ask,  even  after  this  ^'cry  short 
and  very  imperfect  sketch  of  our  Saviour's  character, 
*'  \s  hence  has  this  man  these  things,  and  what  wisdom 
*'  is  this,  that  is  given  unto  him  f"  He  had  evidently 
none  of  the  usual  means  or  opportunities  of  cultiva- 
ting his  understanding,  or  improving;  his  heart.  He 
was  born  in  a  low  and  indigent  condition,  without  ed- 
ucation, without  learning,  without  any  models  to  form 
himself  upon,  cidier  in  his  own  time,  and  his  own 
country,  or  in  any  records  of  former  ages,  that  were 
at  all  likely  to  fall  into  his  hands.  Yet  notwithstanding 
this,  he  manifested  and  supported  invariably  through 
life  such  wisdom  and  such  virtue  as  were  never  before 
found  united,  and,  we  may  venture  to  say,  never  will 
be  again  united  in  any  human  being.  The  conse- 
quence, then,  is  unavoidable,  and  one  of  these  two 
things  must  be  true.  Either  the  character  of  our  Lord, 
as  drawn  in  the  Gospels,  must  be  absolutely  ideal  and 
fictitious,  existing  no  where  but  in  the  imagination  of 
those  who  drew  it ;  or  else  the  person  to  whom  it  re- 
ally belonged  must  be  endowed  with  powers  more  than 
human.  For  never  did  mere  mortal  man  either  speak 
or  act  as  Jesus  did. 

If  we  take  the  former  part  of  the  alternatixe,  and 
affirm,  that  the  portrait  of  our  Saviour,  as  drawn  in 
the  Gospels,  is  an  ideal  one  ;  where,  in  the  first  place, 
shall  we  find  the  man  that  could  draw  it  ?  where  shall 
we  find  the  man,  mIio,  by  the  mere  force  of  ima- 
gination, could  invent  a  character  at  once  so  abso- 
lutely perfect,  and  so  truly  original  ?  The  circumstan- 
ces of  his  uniting  the  divine  and  human  nature  in  one 
person,  and  of  his  being  at  one  and  the  same  time  the 
Messiah  of  the  Jews,  and  the  Instructor,  the  Redeemer, 
the  Mediator,  and  the  Judge  of  Mankind,  are  so  very 
peculiar,  and  so  perfecdy  new  ;  and  yet  all  these  seve- 
ral parts  are  so  well  supported,  and  preserved  so  dis- 
tinct, and  every  thing  our  Saviour  said  or  did  is  so  ad- 
mirably accommodated  to  each,  that  to  form  such  a 
character  as  this,  without  any  original  to  copy  it  from, 
exceeds  the  utmost  stretch  of  human  invention.     Even 


404  Sermon  xxxii. 

the  best  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  writers  never  pro 
duced  any  thing  to  be  compared  with  it,  either  in  point 
of  originality  or  of  excellence,  though  they  frequently 
exerted  themselves  to  the  utmost  in  forming  beautiful     J 
portraits  of  wisdom,  greatness,  and  goodness  of  mind, 
sometimes  in   the   v\'ay  of  compliment,   sometimes  of 
instruction.     But  however  some  extraordinary  genius,      I 
in  the  polite  and  learned  nations  of  the    world,  might 
have  succeeded  in  such  an  attempt,  let  it  be  remem- 
bered that  the  historians  of  Jesus  were  Jews,  natives 
of  a  remote,  and,  in  general,  unlettered  corner  of  the 
world.     How  came  they  by  such  extraordinary  powers 
of  invention  ?  They  have  never  show  n  such  powers  in 
any  other  instance.     Not  even  the  sublimest  of  their 
own  sacred  books  equal,  in  this  respect,  the  history  of 
the  Gospel ;  much  less  their  apocryphal  writings,  much 
less  Philo  and  Josephus,  though  instructed  in  Pagan 
literature  and  philosophy.     And  as  to  the  succeeding 
rabbies,   they    have  not  given  the  history    of  a  single 
person  that  is  not  over-run  with  w  ildness  and  absurdi- 
ty.    Or  if  w^e  think  it  possible,  that  o7ie  Jew,  at  least, 
might  be  found,   who,  with  the  help  of  extraordinary 
talents,  and  a  better  education  than  any  of  the  rest  ever 
had,  might  do  so  much  more  than  any  of  the  rest  ever 
did,  what  color  can  there  be   for  applying   this  to  the 
Evangelists,  to  those  who  have  been  so  often  and 
so  opprobriously,  called  the  publicans,  the  tent-makers, 
and  the  fishermen  of  Galilee  ?   TJjcy  had  never  studied 
at  Athens  or  at  Rome.     They  had  no  superior  talents, 
no  learning,  no   education,   no  skill  in  designing  or  co- 
loring ideal  characters.     It  is  not  most  assuredly,  it  is 
not  men  such  as  these  that  indent. 

Nay,  further  still,  had  they  been  ever  so  capable  of 
forming  such  a  character  as  that  of  our  Saviour,  what 
reason  in  the  world  is  there  to  imagine,  that  they  would 
have  ascribed  it  to  their  Messiah.  They  expected  him 
to  be  of  a  spirit  and  a  behavior  widely  different  from 
that  of  the  meek,  and  humble,  and  passive  Jesus. 
They  expected  an  enterprizing  and  prosperous  warrior, 
avenging  the   injurious  sufferings  of  his  countrymen, 


SERMON  XXXlI.  405 

trampling  the  nations  under  his  feet,  and  establishirg 
the  Jewish  empire,  and  with  it  the  Jewish  law,  throuirh. 
out  the  world.  Possessed  as  they  were  with  these  no- 
tions, instead  of  drawing  for  their  promised  Deii\  erer 
such  a  portrait  as  the  Gospel  presents  to  us,  had  they 
seen  it  ready  drawn,  and  been  asked  whose  it  was,  he 
would  have  been  the  last  person  upon  earth  for  whom 
they  would  have  conceived  it  intended. 

Besides,  what  conceivable  inducement  could  the  sa- 
cred historians  have  to  impose  an  imaginary  persoi-age 
upon  the  world  ;  and  ^rhy,  above  all,  should  they  per- 
severe in  this  imposition,  when  they  saw  and  fell  that 
hatred,  and  persecutions  and  death,  were  the  certain 
consequences  of  their  maintaining  the  reality  of  a  cha- 
racter, which  they  knew  all  the  m  hile  to  be  a  mere 
phantom  of  their  own  creation,  and  could  have  saved 
themselves  by  confessing  it  ?  But  even  if  it  were  pos- 
sible that  human  creatures  might,  contrary  to  all  hones- 
ty, and  all  interest,  be  thus  unaccountably  bent  on  de- 
ceiving, we  have  as  full  evidence  as  can  be,  that  the 
Evangelists  were  not  so.  There  is  manifestly  an  air 
of  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity,  of  plain,  unorna- 
inented  truth  in  every  thing  they  relate ;  nothing 
wrought  up  with  art,  nothing  studiously  placed  in  the 
fairest  light  to  attract  the  eye,  no  solicitude  to  dwell 
even  on  the  most  illustrious  parts  of  our  Saviour's  cha- 
racter ;  but  on  the  contrary,  so  dry  and  cold  a  manner 
of  telling  the  most  striking  facts,  and  most  affecting 
truths,  as  furnishes  ground  to  apprehend  that  they  them- 
selves did  not  always  distinctly  perceive  the  divine  wis- 
dom and  excellence  of  many  things  said  and  done  by 
Jesus,  and  recorded  in  their  books.  At  least,  they 
have  by  no  means  brought  them  forward  into  view  as 
they  well  deserved,  and  as  men  w  ho  n  rote  imth  a  design 
would  most  certainly  have  done.  This  very  circum- 
stance, added  to  the  whole  turn  and  tenor  of  their  \\y\- 
tings,  most  clearly  proves,  that  they  follow  ed  v  ith  re- 
ligious care,  and  delivered  with  scru[ulous  fidelity, 
truth  and  fact^  as  it  appeared  to  them,  and  iicthing 
else. 


406  SERMON  XXXII. 

It  is  evident,  therefore,  upon  the  whole,  that  our 
blessed  Lord  was,  in  reality,  the  very  person  that 
he  is  represented  to  be  in  the  Gospel.  And  as  he  is 
represented  to  have  possessed  a  degree  of  perfection, 
both  intellectual  and  moral,  far  beyond  what  human 
nature  is  capable  of  arriving  at,  and  that,  too,  without 
any  of  the  common  me^ns  of  acquiring  such  perfec- 
tion, the  conclusion  can  be  no  other  than  this,  that 
both  he  and  his  religion  came  from  God. 

But  it  may  still,  perhaps,  be  said,  that  there  is  no 
necessity  for  supposing  any  thing  supernatural  in  the 
case.  He  was  only  one  of  those  wonderful  and  extra- 
ordinary characters  that  sometimes  appear  even  in  the 
very  lowest  stations  ;  and  by  the  force  of  great  natural 
talents,  and  a  native  dignity  of  mind,  and  a  constitu- 
tional goodness  of  disposition,  break  out  from  the  ob- 
scurity of  their  situation,  and  rise  superior  to  all  the 
rest  of  mankind. 

But  besides  what  has  been  already  insisted  on,  that 
no  such  character  as  that  of  Christ  is  to  be  found  in  any 
nation  of  the  world,  in  any  period  of  time,  or  any  sit^ 
nation  of  life,  it  must  be  remembered,  that  our  Lord 
/jimsel/' \i\ld  claim  to  something  ??jore  than  the  character 
of  a  great  and  a  good  man.  He  laid  claim  to  a  di'vine  ori- 
ginal. He  affirmed,  that  he  was  the  Son  of  God,  and 
that  He  and  his  Father  were  One.  If  therefore,  this 
was  not  the  case,  he  must  have  been  either  an  enthusi- 
ast or  an  impostor.  In  other  words,  he  must  have 
been  a  very  weak,  or  a  very  wicked  man.  But  either 
of  these  suppositions  is  utterly  irreconcilable  with  the 
description  that  has  just  been  given  of  him,  with  every 
idea  of  wisdom  and  of  goodness,  which  yet  he  has  been 
proved,  and  is  allowed  to  have  possessed,  in  their  ut- 
most extent.  Whoever,  then,  acknowledge-s  him  to 
be  a  great,  a  wise,  and  a  perfectly  good  man,  ??2ust  al- 
so,  on  his  o%vnpri?iciples  allow  him  that  divinity  which 
he  claimed. 

Here,  then,  is  a  proof  of  the  divine  authority  of  our 
Lawgiver,  and  our  religion,  which  every  one  may  com- 
prehend, and  which  it  will  not  be  easy  for  any  one  t© 


SERMON  XXXir.  470 

withstand.     Some  allcdge  that  they  want  leisure,  and 
others  that  they  want  learning  or  ability,    to  investigate 
with  sufiicient  care  and  accuracy,  the  prophetic,  the  mi- 
raculous, and  the  historical  evidences  of  our  fliith*.  This 
indeed,  is  commonly  nothing  more  than  mere  pretence. 
But  even  this  pretence  is  taken  away  by  the  argument 
here  offered  to  their   consideration.     It  is  involved  in 
no  difficulty,  and  requires  no  laborious  or  cruical  exa- 
mination, no  uncommon  degree  of  sagacity  or  ability  to 
decide  upon.     Nothing  more  is  requisite  than  to  lay 
open  the  Bible,  and  to  contemplate  the  character  of  our 
Lord,  as  it  is  there  drawn  with  the  most  perfect  fairness 
and  honesty  by  the  evangelists.     Whpever  can  judge 
of  any  thing,  can  judge  of  this ;  and  we  know  by  expe- 
rience, that  it  is  calculated  to  carry  conviction  even  in- 
to the  most  wnviU'ing  minds.     We  have  seen,  that  even 
a  Pagan  centurion,  when  he  beheld  Jesus  expiring  on 
the  cross,  could  not  forbear  crying  out  (and  many  oth- 
ers with  him)  "  Truly  this  was  the  son  of  God."    And 
it  is  very  remarkable,  that  the  contemplation  of  the  ve* 
ry  same  scene,  as  described  in  the  Gospel  history,  ex- 
torted a  similar,  but  still  stronger  confession  of  Christ's 
divine  nature,  from  one  of  the  most  eloquent  of  modern 
scepticsf,   who  has  never   been  accused  of  too  much 
credulity,  and  who,  though  he  could  bring  himself  to 
resist  the  force  even  of  miracles  and  of  prophecies,  5^et 
was  overwhelmed  with  the   evidence  arising  from  the 
character,    the   conduct,   and  the  sufferings  of  Christ, 
*'  Where,"  says  he,   "  is  the  man,   where  is  the  phi- 
losopher,  who  can  act,  suffer,  and  die,    without  weak- 
ness,  and  without  ostentation  ?  When  Plato  describes 
his  imaginary  just  man,  covered  with  all  the  opprobri- 
um of  guilt,   yet  at  the  same  time  meriting  the  subli- 
mest  rewards  of  virtue,  he  paints  precisely  every  feature 
in  the  character  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  resemblance  is  so 
striking,  that  all  the  fathers  have  observed  it,  and  it  is 

•  The  proofs  of  Christianity  depend  on  the  laborious  investigation  of  his- 
toric evidence,  and  speculative  theology.  History  cf  the  decline  of  thc'Itonia* 
Evipini,  vol.  3.  [i.  366. 

t  Rosseau. 


408  SERMON  XXXIL 

impossible  to  be  deceived  in  it.  What  prejudice,  what 
blindness,  must  possess  the  mind  of  that  man  who  dares 
to  compare  the  son  of  SophroniscustotheSonof  Mary  ! 
What  a  distance  is  there  between  the  one  and  the  oth- 
er !  The  death  of  Socrates,  philosophizing  calmly  with 
his  friends,  is  the  >.Liost  identic  that  can  be  wished  ;  that, 
of  Jesus  expiring  in  torments,  insulted,  derided,  and 
reviled  by  all  the  people,  the  most  horrible  that  can  be 
imagined.  Socrates  taking  the  poisoned  cup,  blesses 
the  man  who  presents  it  to  him  ;  and  who,  in  the  very 
act  of  presenting  it,  melts  into  tears.  Jesus,  in  the 
midstof  the  most  agonizing  tortures,  prays  for  his  en- 
raged executioners.  Yes,  if  the  life  and  death  of  Soc- 
rates are  those  of  a  sage,  the  life  and  death  of  Jesus  are 
those  of  a  God*." 

It  is  not,  then,  the  prejudice  (as  it  has  been  called)  of 
a  Christian  education,  it  is  not  the  mere  dotage  of  su- 
perstition, or  the  mere  enthusiasm  of  pious  affection 
and  gratitude  towards  our  Redeemer,  which  makes  us 
discover  in  his  character  plain  and  evident  marks  of  the 
Son  of  God.  They  have  been  discovered  and  ac- 
knowledged by  men  who  were  troubled  with  no  such 
religious  infirmities  ;  by  one  man  who  was  a  professed 
Pagan,  and  by  another  man  who,  without  professing  it, 
and  perhaps  without  knowing  it,  was  in  fact  httle  better 
than  a  Pagan.  On  the  strength  of  these  testimonies, 
then,  added  to  the  proofs  which  have  been  here  addu- 
ced, we  may  safely  assume  it  as  a  principle,  that  Jesus 
is  the  Son  of  God.  The  necessary  consequence  is,  that 
every  thing  he  taught  comes  to  us  with  the  weight  and 
sanction  of  divine  authority,  and  demands  from 
every  sincere  disciple  of  Christ  implicit  belief,  and  im- 
plicit obedience.  We  must  not,  after  this,  pretend  (as 
is  now  too  much  the  prevailing  mode)  to  select  just 
what  we  happen  to  like  in  the  Gospel,  and  lay  aside  all 
the  rest  ;  to  admit,  for  instance,  the  moral  and  precep- 
tive part,  and  reject  all  those  sublime  doctrines  which 
are  peculiar  to  the  Gospel,  and  which  form  the  wall  of 
partition  between  Christianity,  and  what  is  called  natu- 

*  Emilc,  V.  2.  p.  16r, 


SERMON  XXXIt.  409 

\'d\  religion.  This  is  assuming  a  liberty,  and  creating 
a  distinction,  which  no  believer  in  the  divine  authority 
of  our  Lord,  can  on  any  ground  justify.  Christ  de- 
livered all  his  doctrines  in  the  name  of  God.  He  re- 
quired that  all  of  them,  without  exception,  should  be 
received.  He  has  given  no  man  a  licence  to  adopt  just 
as  much,  or  as  little  of  them,  as  he  thinks  fit.  He  has 
authorized  no  one  human  being  to  add  thereto,  or  di- 
minish therefrom. 

Let  us,  then,  never  presume  thus  to  new  model  the 
Gospel,  according  to  our  own  particular  humor  or  ca- 
price, but  be  content  to  take  it  as  God  has  thought  fit 
to  leave  it.  Let  us  admit,  as  it  is  our  bounden  duty, 
on  the  sole  ground  of  his  authority,  those  mysterious 
truths  \\  hich  are  far  beyond  the  reach  of  any  finite 
understanding,  but  which  it  was  natural  2C[i^  reasonable 
to  expect,  in  a  revelation  pertaining  to  that  incompre- 
hensible Being,  "  the  High  and  Lofty  One  that  inhabit- 
*'  eth  eternity*."  "  Let  us  not  exercise  ourselves  in 
"  great  matters,  which  are  too  high  for  us,  but  refrain 
"  our  souls  and  keep  them  lowf."  Laying  aside  all 
the  superfluity  and  all  the  pride  of  human  wisdom,  "  let 
*'  us  hold  fast  the  profession  of  our  faith  without  wa- 
"  vering,"  without  refining,  without  philosophizing. 
Let  us  put  ourselves,  without  delay  and  without  reserve, 
into  the  hands  of  our  heavenly  Guide,  and  submit  our 
judgments,  with  boundless  confidence  to  his  direction, 
who  is  "  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life|."  Since  we 
hw%v  in  whom  we  believe  ;  since  it  has  been  this  day 
proved  by  one  kind  of  argument,  and  might  be  proved 
by  a  thousand  others,  that  he  is  the  Son  of  God  ;  let 
us  never  forget  that  this  gives  him  a  right,  a  divine 
right,  to  the  obedience  of  our  understandings^  as  well 
as  to  the  obedience  of  our  'wills.  Let  us,  therefore, 
resolutely  beat  down  every  bold  imagination,  "every 
"  high  thing  that  exulteth  itself  against  the  knowledge 
"  of  God  ;  bringing  into  captivity  every  thought  to  the 
"  obedience  of  Christ,  and  receiving  with  meekness  the 
"  ingrafted  word,  that  is  able  to  save  our  souls§-" 

•  Iraiah  Ivii.  15.       \  Ps.  cxxxi    1.       \  John  x:v.  6.        §  James  i.  21. 

D  d  d 


SERMON  XXXIII*. 


Psalm   xxvii.  16. 

0  tarry  thou  the  Lord's  leisure  ;  be  strong,  and  he    shall   cotn^ 
fort  thine  heart  ;  and  put  thou  thy  trust  in  the    Lord. 

THAT  this  life  is  not,  and  was  not  intended  to  be, 
a  state  of  perfect  happiness,  or  even  of  constant 
ease  and  tranquillity,  is  a  truth  which  no  one  will  be 
disposed  to  controvert.  That  we  are  beset  with  dan- 
gers, and  exposed  to  calamities  of  various  kinds,  which 
we  can  neither  foresee  nor  avert,  is  equally  certain.  It 
is  a  fact,  which,  probably,  most  of  those  who  now  hear 
me  know  too  well,  from  their  own  experience  ;  and 
the  rest  will  most  assuredly  know  it,  full  time  enough: 
for  there  cannot  be  a  weaker  or  more  childish  imagina- 
tion, than  to  flatter  ourselves  with  the  hope  of  passing 
through  the  world  without  our  share  of  those  calami- 
ties, which  are  inseparable  from  mortality.  Affliction, 
then,  of  one  kind  or  other,  being  unavoidable,  it  is  evi- 
dently a  matter  of  the  very  last  importance  to  every 
human  being,  to  enquire  carefully  what  are  the  best 
and  most  solid  supports  and  consolations  under  it ; 
where  they  are  to  be  found,  and  how  lo  be  secured. 
Now,  the  shortest  and  most  effectual  way  of  obtaining 
satisfaction  on  these  points  is,  to  apply  to  men  of  the 
best  judgment,  and  most  experience  in  the  case;  to 
those  who  have  themselves  passed  through  the  greatest 
variety  of  sufferings,  have  sought  for  every  possible 

•  Preached  at  St.  Paul's  on  the  Thanksgiving  day,  for  his  Majesty's  re- 
•overy,  April  23,  1789. 


SERMON  XXXIII.  411 

alleviation  of  them  that  could  be  found,  and  a^etherc- 
fore  the  best  able  to  decide  on  the  value  and  the  effica- 
cy of  the  remedies  they  have  actually  tried.  If  we 
turn  our  thoughts  to  men  of  this  description,  we  shall 
find  few  persons  better  qualified  to  give  us  complete 
inform  ition  on  this  head,  than  the  Royal  Author  of 
the  text  before  us.  He  was  initiated  early  in  the  school 
of  adversity  ;  and  though  he  was  afterwards  raised,  by 
the  hand  of  Providence,  to  a  throne,  yet,  in  that  exalt- 
ed situation,  he  experienced  a  long  succession  of  the 
severest  trials,  and  the  bitterest  afflictions,  that  are 
incident  to  human  nature.  How  much  he  felt  on  these 
occasions,  is  sufficiently  evident  from  his  writings,  in 
which  he  gives  vent  to  the  distress  and  agony  of  his 
soul  in  the  strongest  and  most  impassioned  language 
that  grief  can  dictate.  Yet  with  these  complaints  are 
mingled  generally  the  warmest  expressions  of  gratitude 
and  thankfulness,  for  the  unspeakable  comforts  he  fre- 
quently experienced  under  these  calamities,  and  the 
hopes  he  entertained,  not  only  of  being  enabled  to  bear 
them  patiently,  but  of  finally  triumphing  over  them. 
From  whence,  then,  were  these  comforts  and  these 
hopes  derived  ?  This  is  the  great  question  ;  the  great 
object  of  our  present  inquiry.  And  the  answer  to  it 
is  infeu^  words.  They  were  derived  from  trust  in 
God.  This  it  was  w^hich  he  declared  to  be  his  great 
refuge  in  distress,  his  shield,  his  rock,  his  castle,  his 
house  of  defence,  his  best  and  firmest  stay  under  all 
his  various  misfortunes.  This  holy  confidence  is,  in- 
deed, the  most  striking  and  prominent  feature  in  his 
character.  It  discovers  itself  in  every  page  of  his 
writings.  It  sometimes  throws  a  ray  of  cheerfulness 
even  over  his  gloomiest  moments,  and  unexpectedly 
turns  his  heaviness  into  joy.  *'  In  the  Lord  put  I  my 
*'  trust,"  says  he,  *'  how  say  ye  then  to  my  soul,  that 
**  she  should  flee  as  a  bird  unto  the  hill  ?  The  Lord  is 
*'  my  refuge,  and  my  God  is  the  strength  of  my  con- 
*'  fidence.  In  the  multitude  of  the  sorrows  that  I  had 
"  in  my  heart,  thy  comforts  have  refreshed  my  soul. 


412  SERMON  XXXIII. 

"  They  that  know  thy  name  will  put  their  trust  in  thee, 
"  for  thou,  Lord,  hast  never  failed  them  that  seek 
*'  thee*."  And  again,  in  the  words  of  the  text,  "  O 
*'  tarry  thou  the  Lord's  leisure  ;  be  strong,  and  he 
"  shall  comfort  thine  heart  ;  and  put  thou  thy  trust 
«'  in  the  Lord.'* 

This  great  example,  then,  is  a  powerful  recommen- 
dation of  that  sovereign  medicine  to  the  afflicted  soul, 
TRUST  IN  God.  But  does  Christianity  also  encou- 
rage us  to  have  recourse  to  it  ?  And  does  it  promise  us 
the  same  consolation  that  the  Royal  Psalmist  derived 
from  it  ?  It  promises  to  us,  that  if  we  faithfully  serve 
the  great  Author  and  Preserver  of  our  being,  he  will 
permit  nothing  to  bcfal  us  but  what  is  upon  the  ijohole 
beneficial  to  us,  and  that  "  he  will  make  all  things 
*'  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  himf." 
He  expressly  tells  us,  that  "  whom  he  loveth,  he 
*'  chasteneth,  and  scourgeth  every  son  whom  he  re- 
*'  ceivethj."  Afflictions,  therefore,  far  from  being 
any  marks  of  God's  displeasure,  are  proofs  of  his 
kindness  to  us.  They  are  fatherly  corrections,  they 
are  friendly  admonitions,  they  are  salutary,  though  un- 
palatable medicines.  They  are,  in  short,  instruments 
in  the  hands  of  our  Maker,  to  improve  our  minds,  to 
rectify  our  failings,  to  detach  us  from  the  present 
scene,  to  fix  our  affections  on  things  above,  and  thus 
form  in  us  that  humble  and  devout  temper  of  mind, 
and  unblemished  sanctity  of  life,  which  are  necessary 
to  qualify  us  for  the  great  purpose  of  our  creation,  the 
attainment  of  everlasting  happiness  in  another  and  a 
better  world. 

These  considerations  are  a  solid  ground  for  that  firm 
TRUST  in  the  wisdom  and  the  goodness  of  God,  which 
wll  be  sufficient  to  support  us  even  when  his  hand 
lies  heaviest  upon  us.  And  we  know,  in  fact,  that  it 
has  supported  the  greatest  and  the  best  of  men  under 
the  severest  pressure  of  affliction. 

But  great  as  this  consolation  is,  our  divine  Religion 
has  greater  still  in  store  for  us.     We  are  encouraged  to 

*  Vs.  xi.  1.  xciv.   23.   ix.    10.         t  Rojn.  viii.  28.        \  Heb.  xii.  6. 


SERMON  XXXIII.  413 

hope  not  only  for  comfort  and  assistance  under  affliction, 
but  sometimes  also  for  relief,  and  even  deliverance  out 
of  it.  We  are  commanded  "  to  be  careful  for  nothinj^; 
*'  but  in  every  thing  by  prayer  and  supplication  to  make 
*'  our  requests  known  unto  God.  We  are  assured, 
'"  that  the  effectual  fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man 
"  availeth  much  ;  that  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  over 
"  the  righteous,  and  his  ears  arc  open  to  their  prayer; 
"  that  godliness  is  profitable  unto  all  things,  having 
"  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  which 
"  is  to  come  ;  and  that  if  we  seek  first  the  kingdom  of 
"  God,  and  his  righteousness,  all  other  things  shall  be 
"  added  to  us*." 

But  how,  says  the  disputer  of  this  world,  can  these 
things  be  ?  How  is  it  poLsible  that  God  should  thus 
interpose  in  behalf  of  individuals,  or  even  of  nations, 
vi'ithout  either  interrupting  the  course  of  nature,  or 
over-ruling  the  free  agency  of  his  rational  creatures  ? 
Admitting  for  a  moment,  this  supposed  difficulty  ; 
who  shall  presume  to  say,  that  the  great  Governor  of 
the  Universe  may  not,  if  he  sees  fit,  suspend,  or  alter, 
for  an  instant,  those  general  laws,  which  he  has  him- 
self established  ?  Who  will  venture  to  affirm,  that  on 
great  and  momentous  occasions,  which  involve  the 
fate,  not  only  of  the  greatest  persons,  but  of  the  greatest 
empires  upon  earth,  he  may  not,  even  by  extraordinary 
means,  bring  about  such  events,  as  he  sees  requisite  for 
the  general  good  ? 

But  these  suppositions  are  unnecessary.  There  are, 
undoubtedly,  a  thousand  ways  in  which  the  Supreme 
Lord  of  all  may,  without  the  least  violation  of  the  or- 
dinary course  of  nature,  give  a  new  turn  to  human  af- 
fairs, and  produce  unexpectedly,  the  most  disastrous 
or  most  beneficial  effects.  He  can  render  the  most 
regular  operations  of  the  material  world,  and  the  freest 
actions  of  his  creatures,  subservient  to  his  will ;  and  by 
the  instrumentality  of  second  causes,  can  accomplish 
every  purpose  of  his  wise  and  righteous  government. 
He  can,  for  instance,  at  particular  periods,  raise  up 

♦  Phil.  iv.  6.     James  v.  16.     1  Pet.  iii.  12.     1  Tim.  iv.  8.     Matth.  vi.  33. 


414  SERMON  XXXIII. 

persons  with  dispositions  and  talents  peculiarly  adapted 
to  the  execLition  of  his  designs.  He  can  place  them 
•in  circumstances  and  situations,  and  present  to  their 
minds  objects  and  incitements  calculated  to  promote 
the  gracious  ends  he  has  in  view.  He  can  so  dis- 
pose, adjust,  and  combine  the  common  occurrences  of 
life,  as  to  draw  from  them  whatever  consequences  he 
thinks  fit ;  and  (as  almost  every  day's  experience  may 
convince  us)  he  can,  by  incidents  the  most  trivial,  and 
apparently  the  most  fortuitous,  give  birth  to  the  most 
important  changes  and  revolutions  on  the  great  theatre 
of  the  world. 

That  by  these  and  various  other  means  (utterly  be- 
yond the  reach  of  our  conceptions)  he  both  may,  and 
will,  whenever  he  sees  it  expedient,  interpose  in  the 
concerns  of  men  ;  and  that  he  will  more  particularly 
sometimes  rescue  his  faithful  servants  from  impending 
misery  and  ruin,  is  so  far  from  being  incredible,  or 
even  improbable,  that  it  would  be  injurious  to  the 
honor  and  dignity  of  his  government,  it  would  be  re- 
pugnant to  all  our  ideas  of  his  moral  attributes,  and 
even  to  the  clearest  principles  of  reason  and  sound  phi- 
losophy, to  suppose  the  contrary. 

It  would  be  preposterous  to  maintain,  that  he  has 
so  entirely  given  up  the  reins  of  government  out  of  his 
hands,  so  irrevokably  bound  himself  by  fixt  and  im- 
mutable laws  and  ordinances,  that  he  can  never,  in 
any  circumstances,  or  on  any  emergency,  show  him- 
self plainly  to  be  the  Sovereign  Ruler  of  the  World. 
That  he  should  thus  manifest  himself  at  proper  inter- 
vals to  the  sons  of  men,  not  only  to  protect  the  good, 
but  to  awaken  the  thoughtless  from  that  forgetfulness 
of  him,  into  which  they  are  but  too  apt  to  fall,  seems 
highly  requisite,  and  worthy  of  him  who  is  the  great 
Lord  of  the  Universe.  All  ages,  and  all  nations,  have 
concurred  in  believing  such  interpositions  of  the  Al- 
mighty, and  have  applied  to  him  on  that  belief;  and 
Revelation  places  the  doctrine  beyond  all  controversy. 

And,  thanks  be  to  God,  these  conclusions  of  reason, 
and  these  promises  of  Scripture,  have  been  happily  con- 


SERMON  XXXIII.  415 

firmed  to  us  by  our  own  repeated  experience.  There 
is  not  a  nation  upon  earth,  that  has  been  favored  with 
a  greater  nunil)er  of  provic'ential  deliverances  than  our 
own  ;  and  there  are  none  of  these  that  are  impressed 
with  plainer  and  more  unequivocal  marks  of  a  divine 
interposition,  than  that  \\hich  is  now  the  subject  of  our 
thanksgivings  to  Heaven.  Incredulity  itself  has  been 
compelled  to  own,  that  the  hand  of  God  has  been  visi- 
ble on  the  present  occasion  ;  nor  is  the  joy  of  the 
nation  more  universal,  than  its  belief  of  that  great  and 
important  truth.  But  above  all  the  heart  of  our  Sove- 
reign is  deeply  impressed  with  this  conviction,  that 
IN  God  w^as  his  help  ;  and  that,  ro  his  peculiar  bles- 
sings on  the  means  used  for  his  recovery,  that  recovery 
is  to  be  ascribed.  Throughout  the  whole  of  his  severe 
trial,  his  trust  in  God  never  forsook  him  :  and  be- 
fore that  God  he  now  appears  in  this  holy  and  venera- 
ble structure,  surrounded  with  his  faithful  and  affec- 
tionate subjects,  to  offer  up  in  the  most  public  manner, 
and  with  a  seriousness  and  a  solemnity  suited  to  the 
occasion,  his  praises  and  thanksgivings  for  those  sig- 
nal mercies,  which  have  been  so  recently  vouchsafed 
to  him,  and  through  him  to  his  whole  kingdom.  A 
spectacle  more  striking,  more  awful,  more  dignified, 
more  interesting,  more  edifying,  has  scarce  ever  been 
presented  to  the  observation  of  mankind.  I  know 
not  w  hether  we  are  to  except  even  that  celebrated  one 
recorded  in  the  first  book  of  Kings,  where  a  great 
and  a  pious  monarch,  in  the  presence  of  his  whole 
kingdom,  prostrated  himself  before  that  magnificent 
edifice,  which  he  had  just  erected  to  the  honor  of  his 
Maker,  and  then  spreading  forth  his  hands  towards 
Heaven,  poured  out  the  devout  emotions  of  his  soul, 
in  that  inimititble  prayer  delivered  dou  n  to  us  in  the 
sacred  v\ritings*.  This,  it  must  be  confessed,  was  a 
scene  most  eminently  calculated  to  raise  the  soul  to- 
wards Heaven  ;  to  fill  it  w  iih  the  sublimest  concep- 
tions of  the  Leity,  and  to  impress  it  w iih  the  live- 
liest sentiments   of  veneration,   piety,    devotion,    and 

'  1  Kings  viii.  1Z. 


416  SERMON  XXXIII. 

gratitude.  And  surely  effects  of  a  similar  nature,  and 
little  inferior  in  degree,  may  be  expected  from  the  pre- 
^nt  awful  solemnity*  For  though  the  two  occasions 
are,  it  must  be  owned,  in  some  respects  dissimilar ; 
though  we  are  not  now  met  to  dedicate  a  temple  to 
God  ;  yet  we  are  met,  I  trust,  for  a  still  nobler  dedi- 
cation, for  the  dedication  of  a  whole  people,  with 
their  sovereign  at  their  head,  to  their  Almighty  Pro- 
tector, their  common  Benefactor,  and  Deliverer  ;  for 
the  dedication  of  ourselves,  our  souls  and  bodies, 
throughout  the  whole  course  of  our  future  lives,  to  his 
worship,  his  service,  his  laws,  and  his  religion.  No- 
thing less  than  this  can  be  any  adequate  return  to  our 
heavenly  Father,  for  raising  up  our  beloved  Sovereign 
from  the  bed  of  sickness,  and  preserving  to  us,  in  his 
person,  every  thing  that  is  dear  and  valuable  to  us,  as 
Men,  as  Britons^  and  as  Christians.  For  how  is  it 
possible,  on  such  an  occasion  as  the  present,  not  to 
remember,  or  not  to  acknowledge,  the  many  other  in- 
valuable blessings  we  possess,  as  well  as  that  which 
completes  and  confirms  them  ail,  that  which  we  this 
day  commemorate  ?  Are  we  not  as  a  people  West  be- 
yond example,  and  almost  beyond  belief?  Do  we  not 
enjoy  the  purest  mode  of  worship,  the  best  constituted 
form  of  government,  the  most  eciual  laws,  the  most 
able  and  most  upright  administration  of  justice  ?  Are 
we  not  perfectly  secure  in  our  persons,  our  properties, 
our  civil  and  relisrious  liberties  ?  Are  not  ourmanufac- 

o 

tures  flourishing,  our  population  encreasing,  our  pub- 
lic burdens  gradually  lessening,  our  agriculture  highly 
improved,  our  commerce  boundless  ?  Are  not  the 
marks  of  jjeace,  of  comfort,  of  cheerfulness,  of  afflu- 
ence, visible  on  every  side  ;  and  are  not  our  credit, 
and  reputation  abroad,  commensurate  to  our  prosperity 
and  happiness  at  home  ? 

If  this  be  a  true  picture  of  our  situation,  how*  can  we 
ever  express,  as  we  ought,  our  thankfulness  to  the  gra 
cious   Author   of    all  these   mercies  ?  It   is  not  the 
observance,    it   is  not  the  de/otion,  however  ardent, 
of  a  simple  dav,  that  can  be  a  sufficient  evidence  of  our 


SERMON  XXXIir.  417 

gratitude.     The  only  sure  and  certain  proof  of  onr  sin- 
cerity, is  the  reformation  of  our  hearts,  and  the  fut/jre 
holiness  of  our  lives.    This  is  a  language  which  ea\^noc 
be  mistaken  ;  a  language  which  speaks  to  the  senses  of 
mankind,   and  is  sure  of  being  heard  and  accepted  at 
the  Throne  of  Grace.     In  the  exterior  acts  of  v\  orship, 
our  hearts  may  not  always  accomjxmy  our  lips.     We 
may  be  lukewarm,   inattentive,  or  insincere.     Rut  he, 
who  from  a  principle  of  gratitude  to  Heaven,  renounces 
diose  flu'orite  sins,   which  most  easily  beset  him,  and 
devotes  himself  to  the  service  of  his  Maker,  can  never 
be  suspected  of  pretended  sanctity  or  hypocritical  devo- 
tion.    Here,  then,  at  this  solemn  hour,  and  in  ^his  sa- 
cred place,  when  we  are  offering  up  our  thanksii'vings 
to  God,  let  us,  at  the  same  time,  sacrifice,   at  the  foot 
of  his  altar,  our  vices,    our  follies,  our  passionate  fond- 
ness for  diversions,  our  excessive  attachments  to  any 
pursuits  that  tend  to  draw  oif  our  afi^etions  from  Hea- 
ven and  heavenly  things  :  and  more  especially  our  fre- 
quent,  our   growing  profanations  of  that  sacred  day 
which  our  Maker  claims  as  his  own  ;  whieh  is  the 
great  security  and  bulwark  of  our  Religion  ;  the  great 
barrier  against  the  inroad  of  secularity  and  dissipation  ; 
which  ought  never  to  be  debased  by  unbecoming  levi- 
ties, by  worldly  occupations,  by  dangerous  amusements, 
by  any  thing,  in  short,  that  tends  to  desecrate  the  Chris- 
tian Sabbath,  to  obliterate  that  mark  of  discrimination, 
which  divine   authority,  and  primitive    usage,    have 
stannped  upon  it,  and  to  sink  it  into  the  common  mass 
of  unhallowed  days.     It  is  a  festival,  we  own,  it  is  a 
most  joyful  festival  ;  but  it  is  a  religious  one  too  ;  and 
it  should  be  observed,  not  with  inteniperate  gaiety,  nor 
yet  with  a  gloomy  and  austere  superstition,    but  widi 
that  rational  piety,  that  decent,  modest,  chastised,  and 
sober  cheerfulness,  wliich  so  w  ell  becomes  the  charac- 
ter of  the  day  ;   and  which  (\\ith  some  exceptions)  has, 
in  fact,  usually  distinguished  it  in  this  kingdom.     It 
is  a  distinction  whiehdoes  honor  to  us  as  a  people.     It 
is  what  few  odier  Christian  countries  can  boast.     It  is 

E  ee 


418  SERMON  XXXIII. 

altogether  worthy  of  the  first  Protestant  Church  in  Eii-» 
rope  ;  and  no  reasoning,  no  ridicule,  no  false  ambition 
to  imitate  the  freer  manners  of  our  neighbors  on  the 
continent,  should  ever  induce  us  to  give  it  up. 

But,  at  the  same  time,  let  not  external  observances 
constitute  the  ixihole  of  our  Religion  ;  let  us  be  Chris- 
tians, not  in  name  and  appearance  only,  but  in  deed  and 
in  truth  ;  and,  above  all,  let  us  cultivate  that  hea\;,pnly 
spirit  of  meekness,  gentleness,  forbearance,  candor, 
equity  and  charity,  which  is  the  distinguishing  character 
of  the  Gospel,  and  which  ought  to  mark  distinctly 
every  part  of  our  conduct,  both  public  and  private. 
Let  it  instantly  banish  from  our  hearts  "  all  bitterness, 
*'  and  wrath,  and  clamor,  and  anger,  and  evil  speaking, 
"  with  all  malice  ;"  and  let  us  become,  what  we  have 
every  reason  upon  earth  to  become,  a  contented,  a 
thankful,  a  united,  a  virtuous,  a  religious  people.  Let 
this  place  be  the  grave  of  every  unchristian  sentiment 
and  passion  ;  let  this  day  be  the  aera  of  general  harmony 
and  concord.  We  have  met  here  in  joy  ;  let  us  depart 
in  peace.  Let  us,  both  as  individuals  and  as  members 
of  the  community  (for  the  precept  applies  to  us  in 
both  capacities)  be  "  kind  and  tender-hearted  one  to- 
*'  wards  another,"  watchful  over  ourselves,  respectful 
and  dutiful  to  all  our  lawful  superiors,  grateful  and 
obedient  to  God. 

If  these  be  our  resolutions  respecting  our  future  con- 
duct, we  may  then  safely  apply  to  ourselves  that  sub- 
lime benediction  with  which  Solomon  dismissed  the 
people,  when  the  great  business  of  the  dedication  was 
closed.  "  May  the  Lord  our  God  be  with  us,  as  he  was 
*' with  our  fathers;  let  him  not  leave  us  nor  forsake 
*'  us.  That  he  may  incline  our  hearts  unto  him,  to 
*'  walk  in  all  his  ways,  and  to  keep  his  command- 
*'  ments,  and  his  statutes,  and  of  his  judgments,  which 
"  be  commanded  our  fathers.  And  let  these  my  words, 
*'  wherewith  I  have  made  supplication  before  the  Lord, 
*'  be  nigh  unto  Uie  Lord  our  God,  day  and  night,  that 
"  he  may  maintain  the  cause  of  his   servant,   and  the 


SERMON  XXXIII.  419 

*'  cause  of  his  people,  at  all  times,  as  the  matter  shall 
"  require.  That  all  the  people  of  the  earth  may  know 
*' that  the  Lord  is  God,  and  that  there  is  none  else. 
*'  Let  your  heart  therefore  be  perfect  with  the  Lord 
*'  our  God,  to  walk  in  his  statutes,  and  to  keep  his  com- 
*^  mandments  as  at  this  day*." 

•  1  Xings,   viii.   57—61. 


SERMON  XXXIV. 


Luke  x.  41,  42. 

Jesus  ansvjered  and  said  unto  her.,  Martha^  Martha^  thou  art  care- 
ful and  troubled  about  many  things  ;  but  one  thing  is  nee df id  : 
and  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken 
a'ivay  from  her, 

E  are  now  once  more  arrived  at  the  commence- 
ment of  that  season*,  which  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land has  sei  apart  for  the  purpose  of  enquiring  into 
the  state  of  our  account  with  God,  of  reviewing  our  past 
and  present  way  of  thinking  and  acting  with  a  critical 
and  searching  eye  ;  of  looking  well  if  there  be  any  way 
of  wickedness  In  us,  of  turning  from  it  if  there  be,  of 
confessing  and  lamenting  our  disobedience  and  ingrati- 
tude to  our  heavenly  Father,  of  imploring  his  pardon, 
of  entreating  the  assistance  of  his  holy  spirit,  and  under 
his  guidance  forming  the  inost  serious  resolutions  to 
correct  and  amend,  without  delay,  whatever  we  find 
amiss  in  our  temper,  principles,  and  conduct.  This  is 
the  true  spirit  and  meaning  of  the  religious  solemnity 
of  this  dayy ,  and  the  holy  season  which  follows  it  ;  this 
is  the  substance  and  the  essence  of  what  is  called  in 
Scripture  language,  and  in  the  epistle  we  have  just 
heard,  "  turning  to  the  Lord  with  weeping,  fasting,  and 
*'  mourninp-."  And  what  is  there  in  all  this,  but  that 
sort  of  solicitude  concerning  our  spiritual  condition, 
and  our  future  prospects,  which  every  man  of  common 

•  Lent.  \  Ash  Wednesday. 


SERMON  XXXIV.  421 

sense,  if  he  thinks  them  worth  his  notice,  must  see  to 
be  not  only  highly  reasonable,  but  indispcnsni^ly  neces- 
sary ?  Is  there  a  man  who  has  any  important  end  in 
view  for  the  advancement  of  his  fame,  his  fortune,  his 
rank  or  consequence  in  life,  who  does  not  frequently 
think  and  reflect  upon  it,  who  does  not  give  up  a  large 
share  of  his  time  and  attention  to  it,  who  does  not  often 
shut  himself  up  in  his  closet  to  consider  whether  he  is 
in  the  right  road  to  it,  whether  he  is  taking  the  most 
efficacious  means  to  accomplish  his  end  ?  We  all 
know  that  this,  and  much  more  than  this,  is,  and  must 
be  done,  in  such  cases.  And  yet,  in  a  case  of  in- 
finitely greater  moment,  we  conceive  all  this  care 
and  attention  to  be  perfectly  needless.  We  expect 
to  go  to  Heaven  without  so  much  as  giving  our- 
selves the  trouble  to  inquire,  at  proper  intervals, 
whether  we  possess  the  qualifications  required  of  all 
who  are  allowed  to  enter  there  ;  whether  the  course 
of  action  we  are  pursuing  will  lead  us  to  the  point 
we  profess  to  have  in  view.  The  church  calls  upon 
us  to  give  up  a  few  hours  at  stated  times,  for  a  few 
weeks,  to  those  great  objects  which  \^e  all  acknow- 
ledge to  be  the  most  important  that  can  engage  the  at- 
tention of  a  human  being.  But  the  world  calls  us 
another  way  ;  it  calls  us  a  thousand  different  ways  ; 
and  which  call  is  it  that  we  obey  ?  Look  around  and 
see  what  it  is  that  occupies,  and  is  likely  to  occupy, 
for  the  next  six  ^veeks,  the  greater  part  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  this  gay  and  dissipated  metropolis.  Is  it  re- 
tirement, is  it  prayer,  is  it  self-examination,  is  it  re- 
pentance, is  it  prostration  and  humiliation  of  their 
souls  before  God  ?  It  is  almost  preposterous  to  ask  the 
question.  Some,  it  is  true,  there  are,  and,  I  trust,  not 
a  few,  that  have  not  yet  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal ;  who 
have  not  yet  fallen  down  before  those  idols  of  sin,  of  plea- 
sure, of  interest,  of  ambition,  which  the  world  has  set 
up  to  worship  ;  who  love  God  with  all  their  heart, 
and  soul,  and  mind,  and  strength  ;  who  dedicate  not 
only  this  day  and  this  season,  but  a  large  proportion  of 
every  day  to  his  service,  and  pay  aa  uniform  and  con- 


422  SERMON  XXXIV. 

stant  obedience  to  his  commands.  But  great  numbers, 
it  cannot  be  denied,  (would  to  God  it  could)  pursue  a 
very  different  course,  and  think  it  meanness  to  adore 
the  God  that  made  them.  Far  from  rending  eithef 
their  hearts  or  their  garments  on  such  occasions  as  the 
present,  they  treat,  with  sovereign  contempt,  every 
ordinance  of  the  church  to  which  they  belong  ;  and 
this,  above  all  others,  they  affect  not  only  to  despise, 
but  to  detest.  They  cannot  bear,  it  seems,  they  shud- 
der at  the  very  thought,  they  cannot  bear  to  draw 
down  imprecations,  such  as  the  service  of  this  day 
contains,  on  themselves  and  their  neighbors,  and  to 
pronounce  their  own  condemnation  with  their  own 
mouths.  Absurd  and  thoughtless  men  !  Do  they,  then, 
imagine,  that  if  these  imprecations  are  not  sanctioned 
by  their  own  lips,  they  will  be  of  no  avail  ?  From 
whom  do  they  originally  proceed  ?  From  God  himself. 
They  are  the  terrors,  not  of  man,  but  of  the  Lord. 
And  do  the  threatenings  of  God  want  the  confirmation 
of  man,  before  they  can  take  effect  ?  Will  not  the  un- 
merciful, the  drunkard,  the  extortioner,  the  fornicator, 
the  adulterer,  the  murderer,  the  curser  of  his  father 
and  his  mother,  will  not  these,  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
black  catalogue  of  sinners  enu  merated  this  day,  receive 
their  due  punishment  hereafter,  if  you  are  only  so  ten- 
der-hearted, and  so  indulgent,  as  not  to  pronounce 
their  sentence  here  ?  Alas  !  that  sentence  is  already 
pronounced  by  their  Almighty  Judge.  It  is  recorded 
in  the  books  of  Heaven  ;  and  though  every  tongue 
on  earth  were  silent,  nay,  though  every  tongue 
should  join  in  glossing  over,  and  even  justifying  all  or 
any  of  these  crimes,  that  sentence  will  assuredly  be 
pronounced  on  all  impenitent  offenders.  Deceive  not, 
then,  yourselves  with  any  such  vain  imagination,  as  if 
any  thing  you  could  say,  or  forbear  to  say,  would  alter 
one  iota  in  the  judicial  decrees  of  the  Almighty  Sove- 
reign of  the  universe.  There  is,  indeed,  one  thing 
that  can  change  them.  But  that  depends  not  on  you, 
but  on  the  sinner  himself.  It  depends  not  on  what  he 
says,  baton  what  he  does.     "  When  the  wicked  man 


SERMON  XXXIV.  425 

"  turneth  away  from  his  wickedness  that  he  hath  com- 
*'  mitted,  and  doeth  that  which  is  lawful  and  right,  he 
*'  shall  save  his  soul  alive*."  This  is  the  only  way  of 
averting  those  dreadful  maledictions  you  have  this  day 
heard  denounced  ;  and  it  is  to  bring  men  to  this  way, 
to  stamp  upon  their  souls  a  strong  conviction  of  the 
danger  of  sin,  and  the  necessity  of  a  speedy  repent- 
ance, that  our  church  has  thought  fit  to  make  use  of 
such  strong  and  impressive  terms.  It  does  not,  it  must 
be  owned,  prophesy  smooth  things.  It  does  not,  in 
a  mortal  disease,  deceive  and  flatter  the  patient  with 
soft  and  soothing  palliatives.  It  tells  him  what,  in  his 
condition,  it  is  highly  fitting  he  should  know,  the 
plain  truth  in  plain  words.  It  selects,  out  of  Scrip- 
ture itself,  the  most  awakening  admonitions  which  that 
sacred  book  contains.  It  makes  use  of  that  inspired 
language  which  is  quick  and  powerful,  and  sharper 
than  a  two-edged  sword,  which  probes  our  wounds  to 
the  bottom,  and  reaches  the  most  secret  maladies  oi* 
the  heart.  In  fact,  almost  the  whole  of  the  service  of 
this  day,  which  has  been  so  often,  and  so  unjustly  cen- 
sured, is  expressed  in  the  very  words  of  Scripture ; 
and  whoever  thinks  fit  either  to  condemn  or  to  ridicule 
it,  is  not  condemning  the  English  liturgy,  but  the 
word  of  God. 

But  I  am,  perhaps,  taking  up  too  much  of  your 
time  in  combating  this  pretended  objection  to  the  forms 
of  the  day.  The  real  objection,  I  apprehend,  does 
not  lie  here.  It  lies  much  deeper.  When  so  much 
pains  are  taken  to  find  fault  with  words  and  phrases 
taken  from  holy  writ,  it  creates  a  strong  suspicion,  that 
all  is  not  as  it  should  be  in  another  place.  Let  us  con- 
fess liie  truth.  The  fault  is  not  in  our  Common  Pray« 
er-books,  but  in  our  hearts.  "  My  brethren,  if  our 
"  hearts  condcnm  us  not,  then  have  we  confidence 
"  towards  Godf ;"  then  shall  we  have  confidence  to 
look  his  terrors  steadily  in  the  face,  and  to  join,  with- 
out fear,  in  the  stronj^est  dcnujiciations  against  sin  that 
the  church  can  prescribe  to  us.     But  if  our  hearts  con- 

•  Kzek.  jviii,  '27,  f  1  J^lm,  lii.  21. 


424  SERMON  XXXIV. 

demn  us,  if  they  reproach  us  with  habitually  indulging 
irregular  desires  of  wealth,  of  pleasure,  or  of  power, 
with  neglecting  or  insulting  our  Maker,  and  trampling 
under  foot  his  most  sacred  laAvs,  no  wonder  that  our 
lips  tremble,  and  our  souls  shik  within  us,  while  we 
repeat  his  awful  judgments  against  such  offences.  The 
true  way,  then  to  remove  all  obstacles  to  a  proper  inter- 
course between  God  and  us  at  this  time,  and  at  all  times, 
is  to  pluck  up  from  our  hearts  those  evil  habits,  and 
criminal  passions,  that  bar  up  our  access  to  the  throne 
of  grace.  The  chief  impediments  to  this  intercourse 
are  vice,  pleasure,  and  business.  The  two  first  of  these 
1  have  considered  in  some  former  discourses  from  this 
place*.  The  last  will  be  the  subject  of  what  I  have 
now  to  offer  to  your  consideration. 

With  this  view  I  have  chosen  the  history  of  the  two 
sisters  Martha  and  Mary  ;  a  history  with  a\  hich  you  are 
all  so  perfectly  well  acquainted,  that  it  is  needless  to 
recite  the  particulars  of  it.  Martha,  we  know,  was  so 
overwhelmed  with  family  cares  and  embarrassments,  so 
immoderately  anxious  to  provide  an  entertainment  wor- 
thy ofher  illustrious  guest,  so  cumbered,  as  our  version 
very  energetically  expresses  it,  ivitb  much  serving,  that, 
like  many  others  engaged  in  the  bustle  of  active  life, 
she  conceived  the  business  she  was  employed  in  to  be 
the  most  important  of  all  human  concerns.  She  fanci- 
ed that  every  thing  else  ought  to  give  way  to  it,  and  that 
her  sister  Mary  was  most  miserably  wasting  her  time 
by  sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  and  listening  to  his  hea- 
venly conversation.  How  astonished,  then,  and  mor- 
tified must  she  be,  when,  on  calling  out  for  her  sister 
to  help  her,  she  received  from  our  Lord,  that  v»'ell- 
known  reproof,  mingled,  however,  with  the  most  affec- 
tionate and  salutary  advice  lo  her,  and  to  all  those  that 
happen  to  entertain  similar  sentiments,  and  to  be  in 
similar  circumstances,  with  herself.  "  Martha,  Mar- 
^'  tha,  thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things, 
*'  but  one  thing  is  needful ;  and  Mary  hath  chosen  that 
*'  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken  a^^•ay  from  her." 

*  See  Sermoni  14  and  31. 


SERMON  XXXIV.  425 

The  one  thing  needful,  then,  we  see,  is  an  earnest 
desire  of  spiritual  instruction  and  spiritual  improve- 
ment, or,  in  other  words,  a  serious  and  constant  regard 
to  our  everlasting  welfare. 

But  how  few  are  there,  in  comparison,  who  uniform- 
ly act  on  these  principles  ;  and  what  multitudes,  on  the 
contrary,  are  there  who  are  so  completely  entangled  in 
the  various  occupations  of  a  busy  and  a  tumultuous 
life,  that,  they  are,  like  Martha,  much  more  disposed 
to  cry  out  for  help  in  their  worldly  employments,  than 
to  take  away  any  part  of  their  attention  from  them  to 
bestow  on  the  concerns  of  another  life.  ,:^- 

That  the  pursuits  these  people  are  engaged  iiVrii;^y 
be  both  important  and  necessary,  I  mean  not  to  contro- 
vert or  deny  ;  but  the  question,  then,  is,  which  is  most 
important  and  most  necessary,  the  business  of  this  life, 
or  the  business  of  the  next.  If  our  temporal  and  spi- 
ritual interests  happen  to  interfere,  we  are  not,  I  think, 
any  where  commanded  to  give  the  preference  to  our 
worldly  concerns.  It  may  be  said,  perhaps,  that  it 
would  be  very  ridiculous  to  sit  still,  and  leave  our  tem- 
poral affairs  to  Providence,  expecting  that  God  should 
feed  and  clothe  us,  as  he  feeds  the  fowls  of  the  air,  qhc^ 
clothes  the  lilies  of  the  field.  But  it  would,  I  am  sure, 
be  more  ridiculous,  and  mucb  more  dangerous,  to  leave 
our  spiritual  welfare  to  God,  that  we  might,  in  the 
mean  while,  carry  on  our  worldly  business  without  in- 
terruption. We  have  abundantly  more  reason  to  hbpe, 
that  life  may  be  supported  without  incessant  toil  and 
drudgery,  than  that  we  should  arrive  at  heaven  without 
setting  one  foot  forwards  ourselves  in  the  way  that  leads 
to  it.  We  are  told  by  Christ  himself,  that  if  we  seek 
first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness,  all 
those  things  (that  are  really  necessary)  shall  be  added' 
unto  us*.  But  we  are  no  where  told,  that  if  wc  seek 
first  the  things  of  t!us  world,  tiie  kingdom  of  God,  and' 
all  its  immortal  glories,  shall  ht  thrown  into  our  hands, 
without  any  efforts  on  our  part  to  obtain  them.  Eter- 
nal life,  and  endless  felicity,  are  not  things  of  such  very 

•  MaitV.  vi.33. 

F  f  f 


426  SERMON  XXXIV. 

small  consequence  as  to  be  given  us  gratuitously  over 
and  above  what  we  can  acquire  in  this  world,  by  be- 
stowing our  whole  attention  upon  it. 

Let  it  be  remembered,  too,  when  we  are  comparing 
this  life  and  the  next,  that  in  pursuit  of  our  present  in- 
terests, be  our  industry  ever  sogreat,  we  may  chance  to 
fail  of  success.  The  most  indefatigable  worldling  that 
ever  lived,  may,  after  all  his  drudgery,  be  disappointed 
of  his  aim  ;  may,  by  a  thousand  accidents  not  in  his 
power  to  foresee,  or  prevent,  be  deprived  of  the  fruits 
of  his  labors,  or  rendered  incapable  of  enjoying  them. 
And  when  he  has  lost  this  world,  he  has  lost  every 
thing.  He  has  no  share  or  inheritance  in  the  next. 
He  has  taken  no  pains  concerning  it,  and  can  therefore 
expect  nothing  from  it.  He  can  draw  from  it  no  sup- 
port or  consolation  under  the  loss  he  has  sustained. 
Whereas  the  truly  devout  and  religious  man  has  no 
reason  to  be  in  any  pain  about  his  temporal  aftairs.  If 
they  succeed,  it  is  very  well ;  it  is  so  much  clear  gains  : 
he  has  only  given  them  a  second  place  in  his  thoughts, 
he  has  lost  nothing  for  the  sake  of  them  ;  his  condition, 
in  this  life,  is  so  much  the  better  ;  his  prospects  here- 
after not  at  all  the  worse.  If  his  views  here  are  frus- 
trated, he  has  something  to  comfort  him  ;  he  has  se- 
cured a  happiness  in  reversion  which  cannot  be  taken 
away  from  him  ;  he  is  not  afraid  of  any  evil  tidings» 
for  his  heart  standeth  fast  and  believeth  in  the  Lord. 
Nay,  even  supposing  the  very  worst  that  can  happen  ; 
supposing  he  should,  by  his  attention  to  Religion,  be 
reduced  to  the  most  deplorable  condition  that  can  be- 
lal  mortality,  so  as  that  the  body  should  perish,  whilst 
he  is  consulting  the  health  of  his  soul  ;  the  only  con- 
sequence of  this  last  and  most  grievous  calamity  would 
be,  to  put  him  in  inmiediate  possession  of  that  trea- 
sure, which  he  had  been  so  industriously  laying  up  in 
hea\en.  But  if  the  man  of  business,  on  the  contrary, 
whilst  he  is  heaping  together  the  good  things  of  this 
world,  should  receive  his  final  summons  to  another,  it 
then  beho^'cs  him  to  consider  not  only  "  whose  those 
*'  things  shall  be  which  he  has  provided,"  but  what 


SERMON  XXXIV.  427 

tiie  lot  of  his  soul  shall  be  for  which  nothing  is  provi- 
ded. It  is  a  serious,  it  is  an  alarming  consideration, 
to  be  summoned  unexpectedly  to  answer  for  his  con- 
duct, without  having  once  examined  it ;  to  enter  upon 
a  state  of  eternity,  without  the  least  preparation  made 
for  it.  Yet  such  is  but  too  often  the  case  of  that  in- 
fatuated man,  who  (as  it  is  expressed  in  the  parable) 
Jayeth  up  treasure  for  himself,  and  is  not  rich  towards 
God  ;  who,  in  the  foolish  security  of  his  heart,  says 
to  his  soul,  *'  Soul,  thou  hast  much  jjjoods  laid  up  for 
'*  many  years,  take  thine  ease,  eat  drink,  and  be  mer- 
**  ry."  But  in  the  very  midst  of  this  his  senseless  con- 
fidence, and  visionary  plans  of  future  happiness,  he  is 
snatched  away  with  that  deserved  and  dreadful  taunt,  (the 
prelude  only  of  something  still  more  dreadful)  "thou 
*'•  fool,  this  night  shall  thy  soul  be  required  of  thee*." 

If,  then,  either  our  temporal  or  spiritual  interests 
must  be  entirely  neglected  for  the  sake  of  advancing 
the  other,  there  can  be  no  doubt  which  ought  to  give 
place.  But  the  truth  is,  they  are  both  perfectly  con- 
sistent, and  may,  with  the  utmost  ease,  be  carried  on 
very  amicably  together.  The  Scripture  no  where 
forbids  us  to  make  a  comfortable  provision  for  our- 
selves, our  families,  and  our  friends  :  on  the  contrary, 
it  enjoins  it.  What  it  condemns,  is  only  such  an  in- 
temperate pursuit  of  M'orldly  things,  as  is  destructive 
of  all  Religion,  and  not  such  a  prudent  and  moderate 
regard  to  them  as  the  calls  of  nature,  of  justice,  and 
of  humanity,  demand.  These  calls  must  be  pro- 
perly attended  to,  these  duties  must  be  fulfilled,  to 
render  us  capable  of  any  others ;  and  all  the  Gospel 
requires  is,  that  they  should  be  made  subservient  to 
our  everlasting  happiness. 

It  is  true,  that  some  men  must  necessarily,  from 
their  indigence  in  private,  or  their  elevation  in  public 
life,  I)e  more  involved  in  cares  than  the  rest  of  the 
world.  But  still  we  may,  in  the  busiest  scenes,  find 
certain  breaks  and  intervals,  or  if  we  do  not  find^  we 
-ought  to  viakc  them,    which  eagerly  seized,   and  pro* 

•  Luke  xii.  20. 


428  SERMON  XXXIV. 

perly  applied,  will,  through  the  merits  of  our  Redeemer, 
make  our  final  calling  and  election  sure. 

Some  of  the  most  essential  duties  of  Religion  con- 
sume no  time  at  all.  To  keep  ourselves  unspotted 
from  the  world,  to  abstain  from  intemperance  and  sen- 
suality, from  falsehood  and  detraction,  to  do  no  injury 
to  our  neighbor,  to  suppress  all  anger,  malice,  and  re- 
venge, does  not,  in  any  degree,  interfere  with  our  usual 
occupations.  We  may  do  a  kind  action  just  as  easily 
and  expeditiously  as  we  can  do  a  cruel  one  ;  nay,  ge- 
nerally, with  infinitely  less  pain  and  trouble  to  our- 
selves ;  and,  by  a  charitable  donation  judiciously  be- 
stowed, we  may  make  a  fellow -creature  happy  in  an 
instant,  without  the  least  interruption  to  business.  By 
selecting  the  best  and  worthiest  men  for  the  manage- 
ment of  our  concerns,  we  may  give  countenance  to 
virtue,  and  fix  a  brand  upon  vice.  By  renouncing  all 
the  secret  craft  of  the  world,  and  all  the  sinister,  though 
not  unusual,  methods  of  accumulating  wealth,  we  may 
give  the  strongest  proofs  of  our  integrity.  By  content- 
ing ourselves  with  the  reasonable  emoluments  of  our 
professions,  and  our  employments,  we  may  make  our 
moderation  known  unto  all  men.  By  refusing  to  take 
advantage  of  public  scarcity  and  distress,  and  disdain- 
ing to  raise  ourselves  on  the  ruin  of  our  fellow  creatures, 
we  may  display  to  the  whole  world  a  generous  and  dis- 
interested love  of  our  country.  We  may,  in  short,  by 
a  thousand  instances  of  this  kind,  "  make  to  ourselves 
*'  friends  of  the  mammon  of  unrighteousness,"  and 
w^hether  we  eat,  or  drink,  or  work,  or  whatever  v^  e  do, 
may  do  it  all  in  such  a  manner  as  to  promote  the  glory, 
of  God,  and  the  salvation  of  our  own  souls. 

Then,  as  to  the  positive  duties  of  Religion,  and  the 
offices  of  piety  and  devotion,  we  can  all  of  us  spare  one 
day  in  seven,  at  least,  for  the  performance  of  them. 
By  this  we  lose  no  ground  in  the  race  for  riches  and  ho- 
nors, because  most  of  our  competitors  lose  equally  ; 
and  they  who  spend  it  in  idleness  ajid  debauchery  lose 
more.  We  can  all  of  us  snatch  a  little  time  at  mor- 
ning, and  at  evening,  and  at  noon-day,   for  conversing 


SERMON  XXXIV.  42"9 

with  our  Maker  and  ourselves.  We  can  all  of  us,  in 
the  very  midst  of  our  hurry,  send  up  a  short  prayer, 
or  a  silent  ejaculation  to  the  throne  of  grace  ;  whilst 
our  hands  are  employed,  our  hearts  may  be  with  God  ; 
whilst  our  conversation  is  on  earth,  our  thoughts 
and  affections  may  be  in  heaven.  No  man,  in  short, 
can  possibly,  except  by  his  own  fault,  be  so  circum- 
stanced as  to  want  the  time  that  is  indispensably  ne- 
cessary for  working  out  his  salvation.  In  cases  of  ne- 
cessity, we  must  do  what  we  can  when  we  cannot  do 
all  we  wish.  We  are  sometimes  obliged  to  give  up 
to  business  part  of  the  time  allotted  for  the  refreshment 
of  our  bodies  ;  but  still  we  take  care  to  give  them 
what  is  absolutely  necessary  for  their  support.  In  the 
same  manner,  though  we  cannot  always  indulge  our- 
selves in  long  and  regular  exercises  of  piety  and  devo- 
tion yet  should  we  never  fail  to  feed  and  keep  alive,  at 
least,  our  sense  of  Religion  by  occasional  supplies  of 
spiritual  nourishment.  Such  transient  refreshments 
are  often  the  sweetest,  because  we  come  to  them  with 
an  appetite,  and  more  will  be  sometimes  done  in  thcni 
by  men  of  quickness  and  dispatch,  than  in  whole  years 
languished  out  by  the  monastic  drone  in  solitude  and 
indolence. 

But  instead  of  making  use  of  every  opportunity  that 
offers  ;  instead  of  conforming  to  those  occasional  sea- 
sons of  retirement  which  the  church  has  thrown  in 
their  way,  men  of  business  are  apt  to  deceive  them- 
selves with  resolutions  of  retreating  some  time  or  other 
from  the  ^^  orld  in  order  to  give  themselves  up  to  God 
and  Religion  without  interruption.  Under  this  per- 
suasion, they  postpone  the  settlement  of  their  accounts 
with  Heaven,  till  the  wished-ibr  time  arrives, 
when  they  shall  have  nothing  else  to  engage  their 
thoughts.  This  is  an  error  so  very  common,  even  to 
men  of  the  best  sense  and  the  best  intentions,  that  it 
well  deserves  a  moment's  consideration,  before  we 
dismiss  this  subject. 

And  yet,  it  is  very  surprising,  that  so  many  should 
fall  into  this  snare,  when  every  one  may  see,  from  dai- 


430  SERMON  XXXIV. 

<ly  experience,  that  these  resolutions  are  scarce  ever 
eflfectually  carried  into  execution.  And,  indeed,  how 
can  it  be  expected  ?  It  is  the  very  nature  of  worldly 
pursuits  to  draw  us  on  insensibly  from  one  thing  to 
another,  contrary  to  our  conviction,  and  even  some- 
times contrary  to  our  inclination. 

The  ambitious  man  reaches  what  he  thinks  the  sum- 
mit of  his  wishes  ;  but  this  summit,  when  gained,  he 
finds  will  serve  as  a  step  to  some  higher  point,  which 
makes  his  present  situation  seem  little  in  his  eyes.  As 
he  rises  higher,  he  sees  clearer  and  further  ;  he  con- 
demns his  first  contracted  views,  and  enlarges  his  de- 
sires as  his  prospects  open.  It  is  the  same  in  the  ac- 
cumulation of  wealth,  as  in  the  acquisition  of  power. 
There  is  always  a  certain  sum  we  wish  to  compass,  a 
certain  design  we  wish  to  accomplish.  That  design 
is  accomplished,  but  our  wishes  are  not  completed. 
By  thus  having  our  eyes  constantly  fixed  on  some  dis- 
tant object,  they  are  perpetually  taken  off  from  our- 
selves, and  we  never  want  a  reason  for  neglecting  our 
duty,  till  it  becomes  too  late  to  think  of  it. 

Let  me  not,  however,  be  understood  as  meaning  by 
this  to  discourage  in  men  of  the  w^orld  a  real  desire  of 
breaking  away  from  the  incumbrance  of  business,  and 
dedicating  themselves  in  earnest  to  the  service  of  God 
and  the  duties  of  Religion.  I  mean  only  to  caution  them 
against  delusive  and  abortive  projects  of  this  nature  ; 
against  trusting  all  their  hopes  of  future  acceptance  to 
distant  and  visionary  plans  of  retirement,  and,  in  the 
mean  time,  living  without  God  in  the  world.  This  is  a 
risque  to  which  no  wise  man  ought  to  expose  his  most 
important  interests.  But  if  you  sincerely  wish  to  dis- 
engage yourself,  at  a  convenient  opportunity,  from  the 
cares  and  toils  of  a  laborious  occupation,  think  a  little 
of  the  shortness  and  uncertainty  of  life,  and  the  dan- 
ger of  long  procrastination.  Let  the  period  of  your 
retreat  be  fixed  in  due  time,  and  resolutely  observed ; 
and  let  it  not  be  delayed  from  day  to  day,  till  your 
health,  and  spirits,  and  vigor  of  mind  and  body,  are 
gone ;  and  all  taste  and  relish  for  serious  reflections. 


SERMON  XXXIV.  431 

and  heavenly  meditations,  arc  utterly  extinguished  in 
vour  breast.  To  prevent  this,  you  must  give  up  the 
world,  before  the  world  gives  up  you  ;  you  must  be 
decisive  and  immoveable  in  the  ])lan  you  have  formed, 
and  the  time  you  have  marked  out  for  its  execution  ; 
and  in  the  mean  while,  in  the  ^ery  midst  of  your  busi- 
ness, you  must  preserve  some  intercourse  widi  your 
Maker,  "  some  communion  with  your  own  heart." 
You  must  seize  with  eagerness,  and  employ  with  alac- 
rity, the  few  moments  you  have  to  spare  from  business, 
in  cultivating  devout  sentiments  and  virtuous  habits, 
and  sow  ing  silently  and  imperceptibly,  in  your  soul, 
the  seeds  of  eternal  life.  You  will  then  be  prepared  for 
the  true  enjoyment  of  a  religious  retreat ;  you  will  feel 
nothing  of  that  vacancy  and  languor,  that  disappoint- 
ment and  regret,  which  retirement  frequently  produces 
in  minds  long  debased  by  low  cares  and  sordid  pursuits, 
and  which  have  brought  the  thing  itself  into  disgrace 
and  contempt.  You  will,  on  the  contrary,  find  full  em- 
ployment in  cultivating  and  bringing  to  maturity  the 
good  seed  that  has  already  begun  to  spring  up  in  your 
heart,  and  will  be  continually  acquiring  greater  strength 
of  mind,  greater  firmness  of  principle,  greater  unifor- 
mity of  practice.  Having  already  made  yourself  (3c- 
qua'inted  with  God,  you  will  feel  yourself  no  stranger 
in  his  presence,  but  will,  with  humble  confidence,  com- 
mit yourself,  and  all  your  concerns,  to  his  gracious 
guidance  and  protection.  You  will  have  leisure  to  im- 
prove your  intercourse  with  him  by  frequent  prayer, 
and  to  contemplate  his  power,  his  wisdom,  his  good- 
ness, in  his  astonishing  works  of  creation  and  redemp- 
tion, in  his  providential  care  of  the  universe,  in  his 
daily  mercies  to  yourself  in  particular. 

By  meditations  such  as  these,  you  will  find  an  ar- 
dent love  of  God  kindling  in  your  soul.  Your  mind 
will  gradually  detach  itself  from  the  present  scene,  and 
raise  itself  to  Heaven  and  heavenly  things.  Your  pas- 
sions w  ill  become  every  day  more  tranquil  and  comjx)- 
sed  ;  your  affections  more  spiritual  and  refined  ;  your 


432  SERMON  XXXIV, 

thoughts  more  elevated ;  your  prospects  more  noble 
and  exhilirating  :  and  the  peace,  the  comfort,  the  de- 
light, you  will  experience  in  a  retirement  such  as  this, 
can  only  be  exceeded  by  those  pure,  celestial  joys 
hereafter,  to  which  they  will  be  a  prelude  and  an  in- 
troduction. 


SERMON  XXXV. 


Proverbs  ili.  27. 

Withhold  not  good  from  them  to  lohom  it.  is  due,   when  it  in  in  the 
/tower  oj" thine  hand  to  do  it. 

WHEN  we  reflect  on  that  general  turn  to  acts  of 
charity  and  humanity  which  is  so  observable  in 
this  country,  it  may  perhaps  appear  perfectly  needless 
to  recommend  to  our  hearers  the  injunction  contained 
in  the  text.  If  they  are  so  well  disposed,  as  it  should 
seem  they  are,  to  do  good,  to  what  purpose  are  thev 
exhorted  not  to  withhold  it  from  them  to  whom  it  is 
due  ?  And,  indeed,  if  there  was  no  other  way  of  doing 
good  but  that  of  relieving  the  indigent,  there  would  not 
often,  it  must  be  owned,  be  much  occasion  to  urge 
the  practice  of  this  duty.  But  we  must  not  flatter  our- 
selves, that  when  we  have  distributed  to  the  necessi- 
tous all  the  weakh  we  can  spare,  we  have  done  every 
thing  that  the  love  of  our  neighbor  requires  at  our 
hands.  At  the  best,  we  liave  only  performed  one  part, 
and  that  a  small  part,  of  the  ij;reat,  the  royal  law*, 
(as  it  is  called)  of  Christian  charity,  which  in- 
volves a  great  variety  of  most  important  and  useful  acts 
of  kindness  to  our  fellow-creatures.  Several  of  these, 
though  extremely  easy  and  obvious,  are,  for  that  very 
reason,  perhaps,  apt  to  be  overlooked.  Some  of  them, 
therefore,  I  shall  beg  leave,  at  present,  to  suggest  to 
your  thoughts,    from  whence  the  two  following  good 

•  James  ii.  8. 


454  SERMON  XXXV. 

consequences,  among  others  may  arise.  The  great 
and  tlie  wealthy  Avill  see,  that  to  be  truly  benevolent, 
somethhig  more  is  necessary  than  liberality  to  the  poor. 
And  tliey  who  are  in  a  humbler  station  of  life,  and  who 
on  that  accoimt  are  apt  to  lament  their  inability  to  do' 
good,  will  find  that  there  are  many  roads  to  benefi- 
cence still  open  to  them  ;  and  that  scarce  any  one, 
however  low  or  indigent,  can  want  opportunities  of  do- 
ing good,  if  he  will  but  honesdy  make  use  of  them. 

L  First,  then,  there  is  a  negative  kind  of  benevo- 
lence, which  it  is  most  certainly  in  every  man's  power 
to  exercise  if  he  pleases;  and  that  is,  abstinence 
PROM  MISCHIEF.  As  the  first  step  towards  wisdom 
is  to  avoid  error,  and  towards  happiness  to  feel  no  pain, 
so  the  first  advance  towaids  benevolence  is  to  do  nO' 
harm.  It  may  seem,  perhaps,  a  great  impropriety  of 
expression  to  dignify  this  with  the  name  of  benevolence% 
But  if  benevolence  consists,  as  it  certainly  does,  in  con- 
tributing to  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  our  fellow- 
creatures,  there  is  not  any  one  act  of  humanity,  that  will 
operate  so  effectually  and  extensively  to  this  end,  as  re- 
fraining from  every  thing  that  can  offend,  distress  or  in- 
jure others.  By  far  the  greatest  part  of  the  misery  we 
see  in  the  world,  arises  not  so  much  from  omitting  acts 
of  kindness,  as  from  committing  acts  of  unkindness, 
and  cruelty  ;  and  were  all  these  to  cease  at  once,  the 
effect  on  the  general  happiness  of  mankind  would 
be  somewhat  similar  to  that  inexpressible  comfort  we 
experience  in  ourselves  on  the  removal  of  some 
violent  pain.  Think  onl}-  what  infinite  mischief  arises 
from  peevishness,  ill-nature,  and  pride ;  from  detrac- 
tion, falsehood,  deceit,  and  treachery  ;  from  fraud  and 
oppression  ;  from  envy,  hatred,  anger,  lust,  ambition, 
revenge,  and  the  whole  infernal  family  of  malevolent 
passions.  Annihilate  all  the  evils  that  arise  from  these 
sources,  and  tliis  world  would  be  a  paradise.  Every 
other  kind  of  charity  would  be  almost  unnecessary. 
For  it  is  the  ch.ief  business  of  human  compassion,  to 
heal  those  wounds  which  human  malignity  is  constant- 
ly inflicting.     How  much,  then,  is  it  to  be  lamented, 


SERMON  XXXV.  435 

that  this  most  important  branch  of  chanty  is  not  more 
attended  to,  than  it  seems  to  be  !  There  is  no  one  cha- 
racter in  the  Morld,  \\ hich  men  are  in  general  so  am- 
bitious of  having  ascribed  to  them,  as  that  of  ^ood-na- 
ture  and  benevolence.  With  some  (especially  those 
that  reject  Christianity,  but  profess  themselves  fiiends 
to  virtue)  this  is  deemed  not  merely  the  first  of  human 
duties  ;  but  the  only  one  worth  their  notice  ;  the  one 
thing  needful,  the  sum  and  substance  of  all  morality  and 
religion.  One  should  naturally  suppose,  therefore, 
that  this  virtue  at  least,  this  favorite  and  fasliionablc 
virtue,  would  be  perfectly  well  understood  and  practi- 
sed, and  every  the  minutest  branch  of  it  most  assidu- 
ously cultivated  and  improved.  But  how  far  this  is 
from  being  the  case,  is  but  too  apparent.  The  com- 
mon pretence  to  it  is  seldom  any  thing  more  than  a 
little  constitutional  easiness  of  temper,  a  sociability  of 
disposition,  and  a  thoughtless,  indiscriminate,  perhaps 
even  pernicious  liberality.  On  these  grounds  do  great 
numbers  fancy  themselves  the  kindest,  the  gentlest, 
the  most  benevolent  of  human  beings.  And  yet,  a;t 
the  same  time,  these  men  of  benevolence  will  not 
scruple,  perhaps,  where  their  own  interest  is  concerned, 
to  oppress  and  harass  their  inferiors  without  the  least 
feelings  of  compassion  or  remorse,  to  invade  their  dear- 
est rights,  disregard  their  most  equitable  claims,  dis- 
tress them  with  expensive  and  tedious  litigations,  and 
crush  them  with  the  weight  of  th^ir  wealth  and  power. 
If  envy  or  ambition,  if  prejudice  or  party,  if  spleen  or 
resentment,  inflame  their  minds,  they  will  say  some- 
times the  bitterest  and  the  cruellest  things  of  those 
whom  they  happen  to  dislike,  will  calumniate  the  fair- 
est and  most  unblemished  characters,  M-ill  misrepresent 
the  best  intentioned  actions  and  designs,  and  eive  wav 
to  such  a  vehemence  of  temper  and  conduct  as  is  utter- 
ly inconsistent  with  all  true  benevolence.  If  softer  pas- 
sions take  possession  of  them,  these  they  will  often  in- 
dulge to  the  very  utmost,  let  what  will  be  the  conse- 
quence, let  who  will  be  the  sufferer.  The  dignity  of 
virtuous  innocence,  the  peace  and  comfort  of  liimilies, 


456  SERMON  XXXV. 

the  ties  of  friendship,  the  laws  of  hospitality,  the  sancti- 
ty of  plighted  vows,  the  happiness  of  those  whom  they 
are  bound  by  the  most  solemn  engagements  to  cherish 
and  to  protect,  all  these,  and  a  thsousand  other  no  less 
sacred  obligations,  are  trifles  to  them,  are  brushed  away 
like  the  morning  dew,  when  they  stand  in  the  way  of 
their  desires  ;  and  mifititudes  must  be  made  wretched 
for  ever,  that  they  may  be  triumphant  for  one  mo- 
ment. And  yet,  if  the  slightest  injury  or  insult  be 
offered, to  themselves,  they  take  fire  in  an  instant; 
they  pursue  the  offender  with  inextinguishable  fury  and 
rancor,  and,  whilst  they  are  violating  every  hour  the 
maxims  of  true  honor,  will  sacrifice  to  notions  of  false 
honor  the  life  of  the  dearest  friend  they  have  in  the 
world.  Let  not  these,  let  not  any  such  as  these,  ever 
pretend  to  talk  of  humanity  or  benevolence.  They 
are  ignorant  of  its  first  principles,  and  have  the  very 
rudiments  of  true  Christian  charity  yet  to  learn.  Tho' 
to  some  persons,  and  on  some  occasions,  they  may 
perhaps  be  generous  and  kind  ;  yet  if  they  are  disso- 
lute, oppressive,  implacable,  vindictive,  the  misery 
they  occasion  by  these  vices  will  infinitely  outweigh 
all  the  good  they  do  in  other  instances,  and  justly  de- 
nominate them  hard-hearted  and  inhuman. 

II.  The  very  first  duty,  then,  of  the  ]:>enevolent 
man,  is  to  do  harm  to  no  one.  Then  let  him  go  on  to 
do  good  to  as  many  as  he  can.  And  he  may  do  jjood 
to  more  persons,  and  in  more  cases,  than  he  is  perhaps 
aware  of.  What  numberless  opportunities,  for  in- 
stance, are  there  of  making  others  happy  in  the  dail}- 
commerce  of  life  (especially  in  its  nearest  and  tendcr- 
est  connections)  by  an  easv,  affable,  condescending, 
gentle,  encouraging  behavior  and  conversation.  We 
may  say  and  do  the  most  trivial  things,  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  give  almost  as  much  pleasure  to  those  with  whom 
we  constantly  live  and  converse,  as  we  could  do  by  the 
most  substantial  acts  of  kindness.  And  let  not  this 
be  thought  unv/orthy  the  attention  of  a  Christian  asr 
gembly.  Scripture  itself  commands  us  to  he  courteous^ ^ 

*  1  Pet.  ill.  8. 


SERMON  XXXV,  437 

and   the     manners   of   our   blessed   Lord    were   not 
only  mild  and  gentle,  but   graceful   and  captivating. 
This  was  the  natural  result  of  his  unbounded  benevo- 
lence, which  is  indeed  the  best,  the  only  sure  and  solid 
foundation  of  true  urbanity.     Without  real,  undis- 
sembled  good- will  to  others,  either  from  principle  or 
constitutidii,  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  a  constant 
desire  to  please  ;   and   without  such  a  desire   always 
present  to  our  minds,  it  is  impossible  we  should  please. 
AV^hoever,    therefore,  wishes  to   render   himself  uni- 
versally    beloved    and    admired,     must    not  merely 
seem  benevolent ;  he  must  be  really  so.     When  once 
he     is,    every    thing    else    will    generally    follow   of 
course,  without  difficult}^  without  eftbrt,  with  the  least 
occasion  for  art,  disguise,  or  management*.     When 
all  is  goodness  within,  all  must  be  gracious  and  enga- 
ging without.     Wlien  there  is  a  fountain  of  genuine 
kindness  in  the  soul,  it  will  naturally  and  spontaneously 
diffuse  itself  to  every  the  minutest  part  of  our  behavior. 
III.  They  who  have  had  much   experience  in  the 
world,  may  be  of  infinite  use  to  those  who  have  had  but 
little,  by  giving  them  wise,  and  seasonable,  and  saluta- 
ry advice  ;  by  rectifying  their  crude  mistaken  notions 
of  men  and  things  ;  by  instructing  them  in  the  real 
value  of  the  blessings  and  the  evils  both  of  this  life  and 
the  next ;  by  pointing  out  to  them  the  road  they  are  to 
take,  the  objects  they  are  to  pursue  ;  by  guarding  them 
against  those  hasty  friendships,    and   ruinous   connec- 
tions, which  they  are  but  too  apt  to  form  ;   by  teaching 
them,  in  fine,  to  distinguish  properly    between  trivial, 
showy,  superficial  accomplishments,   and    those  solid, 
substantial  attainments,   both    intellectual,   moral,  and 
religious,  which  ought  to  engage  the  chief  attention  of 
a  rational  and  immortal  being.     This  \vorld  is  a  wide 
and  turbulent  ocean,     full  of  rocks  and  shoals  ;  and 
there  cannot  be  a  kinder  or  more  useful  thing  than  tQ 
furnish  those  who  are  ready  to  launch  out  upon  it  with 
a  proper  chart  and   compass  to   direct   their   course. 
There  are  few  persons  who  have  not,  in  some  part  of 

•  Such  as  we  see  recommendsd  in  the  letters  cf  a  late  noble  Earl  to  his  Sqjsi. 


438  SERMON  XXXV. 

•their  lives,  abundant  opportunities  of  exercising  their 
benevolence  and  good- nature,  in  this  way,  towards 
the  thoughtless  and  inexperienced.  And  they  must 
havejittle  feeling  indeed,  who  can  see  a  poor  gickly 
wretch  running  headlong  down  a  precipice,  without 
stretching  out  a  friendly  hand  to  snatch  him  from  de- 
struction. ^ 

IV.  But  if  we  are  afraid  of  being  thought  meddling 
and  officious,  and  of  provoking  enmity,  where  friend- 
ship only  was  meant,  there  is  another  method  of  in- 
structing and  benefiting  others,  which  cannot  possibly 
give  offence;  and  that  is,  a  good  example.  A  regu- 
lar, virtuous,  religious  life,  besides  all  the  good  it  does 
in  other  respects,  is  a  constant  lesson  of  morality  to  all 
around  us.  It  is  a  silent,  insinuating  kind  of  advice, 
which  steals  unobserved  into  the  mind  ;  and  its  opera- 
tions, though  imperceptible,  are  commonly  most  ef- 
fectual. Living  under  the  influence  of  a  bright  exam- 
ple is  to  the  soul,  what  breathing  a  pure  and  whole- 
some air  is  to  the  body.  We  find  ourselves  mended 
and  improved  and  invigorated  by  both,  without  any  sen- 
sible impression  made  upon  us,  without  perceiving  how 
the  happy  change  is  brought  about.  When  people 
oiferus  advice  in  form,  it  seems  to  argue  a  kind  of  su- 
periority which  sometimes  piques  and  offends  us.  We 
are  apt  to  set  ourselves,  out  of  mere  pride,  to  fence  and 
light  against  it,  and  can  scarce  ever  be  ingenuous 
enough  to  own  ourselves  in  the  wrong  when  any  one 
presumes  to  tell  us  that  we  are  so.  But  we  cannot  possi- 
bly be  angry  at  a  man  for  taking  care  of  his  own  con- 
duct, for  going  on  in  the  right  road  himself,  and  lea- 
ving us  to  follow  him  or  not,  as  we  think  fit.  When 
virtue  is  thus  made  vissible  in  human  form,  its  charms 
are  too  powerful  to  be  resisted.  Instead  of  applying  to 
the  understanding,  it  makes  its  way  directly  to  the 
heart  ;  and  when  that  is  once  gained  over,  all  difficulty 
is  at  an  end.  Here  then,  is  a  way  of  doing  good,  which 
is  equally  in  the  power  of  the  greatest  man  and  the 
meanest.  He  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  go  quietly  on  in 
the  path  of  duty,  and  he  will  be  followed  by  multitudes, 


SERMON  XXXV.  439 

on  wh6m   neither  argument,   nor   persuation,  would 
ever  have  made  the  shghtest  impression. 

But  though  every  one  may  thus  make  his  light  shine 
most  usefully  before  men,  yet  the  higher  this  light  is 
placed,  the  wider  will  be  its  sphere,  and  the  more  ex- 
tensive its  influence.  They  therefore,  who^y  their 
birth,  their  station,  their  power,  their  wealth,  their  pro- 
fession, their  abilities,  are  set,  as  it  were,  upon  an  emi- 
nence, and  held  up  to  the  observation  of  the  world,  are 
more  especially  bound  to  take  heed  to  their  ways,  since 
the  good  or  the  harm  they  m^iy  do  by  their  conduct  is 
inconceivable.  It  is  very  well  known,  that  the  lower 
orders  of  men  almost  constantly  lake  the  cast  and  color 
of  their  lives  from  tliose  above  them.  The  manners 
of  the  people,  therefore,  are  to  a  great  degree  in  the 
hands  of  their  superiors,  and  may  be  moulded  by  them 
into  whatever  form  they  please.  What  a  noble  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  good  does  this  afford  to  those  superi- 
ors !  An  opportunity  which  to  every  man  of  benevo- 
lence, of  public  spirit,  nay,  even  of  any  honest  ambi- 
tion, must  be  such  a  temptation  to  right  conduct,  as 
one  would  think  it  impossible  for  him  to  withstand. 
What  a  fair  and  obvious  path  to  reputation  and  ap- 
plause is  here  marked  out  to  the  uj'tper  part  of  the 
world  !  How  easy  is  it  for  them  to  merit,  and  to  obtain, 
aplace  amongst  the  most  distinguished  friends  and  bene- 
factors of  mankind,  merely  by  living  as  they  ought  ; 
by  being  as  eminently  good,  as  they  are  eminently- 
great.  There  are  it  must  be  confessed,  numbers  who 
are  really  so  ;  and  were  those  numbers  to  encrease  in 
the  proportion  they  might  and  ought,  we  should  soon 
see  the  infinite  utility  of  such  examples.  It  is  an  ex- 
periment that  well  deserves  to  be  tried  in  its  utmost  ex- 
tent, and  the  reward  ^vould  amply  repay  the  labor.  For 
surely  there  is  no  gratification  that  wealth  or  power  can 
bestow,  equal  to  the  feelings  which  they  must  have, 
who  see  multitudes  of  their  fellow-creatures  growing' 
every  day  better  and  happier  under  their  hands.  It 
can  be  exceeded  only  by  the  unspeakable  joy  they  will 
experience  hereafter,  when  they  perceive  themselves 


440  SERMON  XXXV. 

surrounded  in  tlie  realms  of  light  by  those  who  have 
been  brought  there  principally  by  their  means  ;  whose 
grateful  transports  will  overwhelm  them  with  delight, 
and  for  whose  virtues  they  will  be  rewarded  as  well 
as  for  their  own. 

V.  Another  very  easy  and  unexpensive  method  of 
being  very  serviceable  to  others  is,  by  vindicating  the 
characters  of  those  that  have  been  unjustly  defamed  and 
traduced.  If  the  injured  persons  are  strangers  to  us, 
it  is  generous  and  noble  to  stand  up  in  their  defence. 
If  they  are  our  friends,  we  are  bound  by  the  most  sa- 
cred ties  to  repel  the  insults  offered  to  their  good  name. 
If  they  are  set  in  authority  over  us,  it  is  our  duty  to 
rescue  them  from  the  obloquy  which  we  know  they  do 
not  merit.  In  all  these  respects  we  have,  it  must  be 
owned  at  present,  an  ample  field  for  our  benevolence 
to  work  in.  With  opportunities  of  doing  good  in 
thisw^y^  we  are,  indeed,  most  liberally  furnished  by 
the  licence  and  malevolence  of  the  age.  For  surely 
it  is  doing  it  no  injustice  to  say,  that  one  of  its  most 
distinguishing  features  is  an  intemperance  in  calumny, 
an  indiscriminate  wantonness  of  defamation,  of  which 
no  other  country,  no  other  period,  even  in  this  country, 
furnishes  any  example.  It  becomes,  then,  every  friend 
to  humanit}'^,  or  even  to  common  justice,  to  set  him- 
self with  the  utmost  earnestness  against  this  most  un- 
christian fury  of  detraction.  He  can  hardly  do  a 
greater  kindness  to  individuals,  or  a  more  substantial 
service  to  the  public,  than  by  discouraging  and  repres- 
sing to  the  utmost  every  groundless  slangier,  every  un- 
merited reproach,  let  who  will  be  the  object,  whether 
in  the  highest  employments  or  the  most  private  stations 
of  life. 

VI.  But  though  in  these  and  many  other  instances 
that  might  be  mentioned,  we  may  do  most  essential 
service  to  our  fellow- creatures,  yet  they  who  have  the 
strongest  claim  on  our  benevolence,  are  undoubtedly 
the  afilicted  and  distressed.  To  these,  w^hen  pecunia- 
ry relief  is  all  they  want,  it  should  certainly  be  admin- 
istered in  proportion  to  their  necessities,  to  our  circum- 


SERMON  XXXV.  441 

stances,   and  the  right  they  have  to  expect  assistance 
from   us.     But  it  frequently   happens,   that   the  kind- 
ness they  stand  in  need  of  is  of  a  very  different   nature. 
Sometimes  they  require  nothing  more  than  a  Httle  sup. 
port  and  countenance  against  some  petty  tyrant,   that 
"  dcviscth  mischief  continually*."     Sometimes  they 
have  undeservedly  lost  the  affections  of  their  best  friend, 
whom  they  wish  to  regain.     Sometimes  they  seek  in 
vain  admission  to  those  who  can  alone  effectually  as- 
sist them.     Sometimes  a  load  of  grief  lies  heavy  on 
their  minds,  which  calls  for  some  compassionate  hand 
to  lighten  or  remove   it,  by  consolation,  by  advice,  by 
encouragement,  by  sympathy  and  condolence,  by  every 
tender  care,    every  soothing  expression  that  humanity 
can  dictate.     In  all  these  cases,  and  a  multitude  of 
others  that  might  be  mentioned,  true  benevolence  will 
accommodate  itself  to  the  various  distresses  that  fall  in 
its  way  ;  will,  with  a  versatility  truly  admirable,   "  be- 
"  come  all  things  to  all  men,"  and  assume  as  many 
different  shapes  as  there  are  modes  of  misery  in  the 
world.     It  will  compose  the  differences  of  friends  ;  it 
will  arrest  the  violence  of  enemies  ;  it  will  bring  back 
the  ungrateful  child  to  a  sense  of  his  duty,  the  offend- 
ed parent  to  the  feelings  of  affection  ;   "it  will  visit 
"  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction  ;   it  will 
"  rejoice  with  them  that  rejoice,  and  weep  with  them 
"  that  weep  ;"  it  will  protect  the  helpless  and  the  weak  ; 
will  exert  its  influence,  will  exhaust  its  powers  in  re- 
dressing their  injuries,  and  vindicating  their  rights  ;  it 
will  facilitate  their  access  to  the  seats  of  justice  ;  it  will 
knock  for  them  at  the  doors  of  the  great ;  it  will  raise 
them  up  friends,  where  they  could  never  have  thought 
of  looking  for  them  ;  it  will  be  as  Aaron  was  to  Moses, 
"  a  mouth  to  themf  ;"  it  u  ill  speak  those  wants  which 
they  are  unable  to  represent,  and  plead  for  tliem  with 
an  eloquence  which  nothing  can  resist.     The  man  of 
charity,  in  short,  will  not  merely  content  himself  with 
giving;  alms  ;   he  will  give  what  people  are  often  more 
unwilling  to  give,  his  attention,  his  thoughts,  his  care, 

*  Proverbs  vi.  14.  t  Ex.  iv,  16. 

H  h  h 


442  SERMON  XXXV, 

his  friendship,  his  protection.  These  are  so  many  in- 
struments of  beneficence  that  God  puts  into  our  hands 
for  the  benefit  of  others.  These  were  intended  to  sup- 
ply the  place  of  wealth  ;  and  will,  in  many  cases,  re- 
lieve distresses  which  wealth  cannot  reach. 

To  enter  into  a  minute  detail  of  all  the  various  ways 
in  which  we  may  benefit  mankind  would  be  endless, 
and,  indeed,  in  a  great  measure  needless.  For  who- 
ever is  possessed  with  a  sincere  desire  to  do  good,  will 
have  no  occasion  for  a  monitor  to  suggest  to  him  when 
and  where  he  shall  exert  it.  He  will  be  no  less  quick 
in  discerning,  than  eager  in  embracing  every  opportu- 
nity of  exercising  his  benevolence.  I  shall  therefore 
content  myself  with  mentioning  in  conclusion,  only 
one  more  way  of  manifesting  our  good  will  to  man- 
kind ;  which  is  in  a  very  high  degree  important  and 
beneficial  ;  which  lies  as  much  within  the  reach  of 
the  lowest  as  the  highest ;  and  which  yet  both  high  and 
low  are,  I  fear,  but  too  apt  to  neglect;  I  mean,  re- 
commending  OUR  BRETHREN  TO  GoD  IN  PRAVER. 

Let  not  the  Philosopher  smile  at  this  !  It  is  not  to 
him  I  speak.  He,  I  know,  is  infinitely  above  the 
mecinness  of  paying  any  homage  to  the  great  Creator 
and  Governor  of  the  world.  He  disdains  to  pray  even 
for  his  own  welfare  ;  how,  then  should  he  ever  think 
of  imploring  blessings  upon  «ithers  ?  How  can  he  be 
expected  to  love  his  neighbor  better  than  himself!  He 
laughs  at  the  idea  of  a  particular  providence,  Vvhich 
regulates  the  minutest  movements  both  of  the  natural 
and  the  moral  world,  and  consequently  looks  on  prayer 
as  the  idlest  and  most  useless  employment  in  which  a 
human  creature  can  be  engaged.  Let  us  leave  him, 
then,  to  the  enjoyment  of  that  comfortable  state  of 
which  lie  has  made  choice  ;  turned  adrift  (as  he  must 
suppose  himself)  into  a  wide  world,  and  abandoned  to 
thf  caprice  of  chance  and  fortune,  without  protector, 
guide,  or  comforter  ;  without  any  Almighty  Friend  to 
api^ly  to  for  himself,  or  those  he  holds  most  dear,  when 
exposed  to  dangers,  or  involved  in  calamities,  ^vhere 
all  hurr.an  help  is  vain.     Here,  I  say,  let  us  leave  him  ; 


SERMON  XXXV.  44S 

and  let  us  devoutly  thank  God  that  we  are  not  Philoso- 
phers.    Let  us  diank  God  that  our  belief  of  this  most 
important  doctrine  of  a  particular  providence  is  found- 
ed, not  on  the  cobweb  subtleties  of  human  science,  but 
on  that  solid,  immoveable  rock,  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 
The  Scripture  informs  us,  that  he  who  first  created 
the  world,  still  continues  to   preserve  it  ;   that  he  is 
''  about  our  path  and  about  our  bed,  and  spieth  out  all 
'*  our   ways*  ;"  that,    without   his  knowledge  not  a 
"  sparrow  falls  to  the  ground,  and  that  the  very  hairs 
*' of  our  head  are  all  numberedf."     To  this  gracious 
and  Almighty  Being  we  are  commanded  to  pray,  and 
that  not  only  for  ourselves  but  for  others  also.     "  Pray 
'*  one  for  another,"  says  St.  James.     *'  Let  supplica- 
"  tion,  prayers,  intercessions,  and  giving  of  thanks  be 
*'  made  for  all  men|."     *'  Seek  the  peace  of  the  city 
"  where  you  live,   and  pray  unto  the  Lord   for  it|l." 
What  a  pleasing,  what  a  spacious  field  of  benevolence 
is  here  opened  to  the  Christian,  from  which  the  unbe- 
liever (who  yet,  of  all  others,  boasts  the   most  of  his 
benevolence)  absolutely  shuts  himself  out.     We  think 
it  a  strong  mark  of  our  regard,  to  recommend  those  we 
love  to  some  great  and   powerful  friend,  who  is  able 
to  support  and  advance  them  in  the  world.     But, -what 
earthly  support  or  protection  is  to  be  compared  to  his, 
who  has  all  the  powers  of  nature,  and  all  the  events  of 
futurity,  at  his  command,  who  has  the  hearts  of  all  men 
in  his  hand,   and  "  turneth  them  whithersoever    he 
**  will§."     What  a  privilege,  what  iin  honor,  what  an 
indulgence  is  it,  that  we  are  allowed  to  commit  those  we 
love  to  his  care  and  guardianship;  and  that  we  can  do 
it  without  raising  up  a  rival   in  h^s  affections  !  In  the 
arms  of  his  mercy  there  is  room  for  all.     He  can  em- 
brace in  them,  at  once,  the   whole  race  of  mankind  ; 
and  the  more  we  intercede  in  our  prayers  for  others,  the 
surer  are  we  of  his  kindness  to  ourselves.     To  him  we 
seldom  fail   to  have  recourse   in  our   own    distress. 
There  are  cases  in  w hich  we  fly  to  him  by  a  kind  of 

•  Psalm  cxxxix.  3.  ■{•  Mauh.  x.  29.  c>Q.        \  1  Tim.  ti.  1. 

II  Jer.  xxix  7.  §  Prov,  xxi.    1. 


444  SERMON  XXXV. 

instinctive  impulse ;  in  which  without  the  utmost 
violence,  we  cannot  restrain  ourselves  from  prayer.  If 
then  we  have  any  real  good  will  to  our  fellow- creatures, 
we  shall  implore  the  same  mercies,  and  with  the  same 
earnestness,  for  them  that  we  do  for  ourselves.  If  we 
have  any  love  for  our  country,  we  shall  not  fail  to  give 
it  a  place  in  our  devotions,  and  to  pray  most  ardently  for 
the  prosperity  and  stability  of  our  Jerusalem. 

In  what  manner  our  prayers  can  be  granted,  or  by 
what  means  God  can  avert  calamity  from  those  we  re- 
commend to  his  protection,  without  doing  violence  to 
what  is  called  the  ordinary  course  of  nature,  it  is 
no  concern  of  ours  to  enquire.  If  God  has  com- 
manded us  to  pray  for  others,  it  is  our  business 
not  to  philosophize,  but  to  obey.  Let  us  give 
ourselves  no  trouble  about  the  course  of  nature. 
It  is  perfectly  safe  in  the  hands  of  its  divine  Author. 
There  may  be  no  difficulties  to  Omnipotence,  where 
we  see  nothing  but  impossibilities.  Let  us  leave  God 
to  manage  his  own  world,  aiid  perform  his  promises, 
as  he  certainly  will,  in  his  own  way.  All  we  have  to 
do  is,  to  make  a  faithful  use  of  that  valuable  privilege 
of  INTERCESSION,  which  he  has  graciously  allowed 
us  for  the  benefit  of  our  fellow-creatures.  The  most 
indigent  man  may  say  to  his  neighbor,  as  St.  Peter  did 
to  the  cripple  at  the  gate  of  the  temple,  "silver and 
*'  gold  have  1  none  ;  but  such  as  I  have,  give  I  thee*." 
My  v\  ishcb,  mv  intercessions,  my  prayers  you  shall 
have.  On  earui.  indeed,  I  can  do  nothing  ;  but  I  will 
try  to  move  heaven  in  your  favor.  This  puts  it  in 
thf  power  of  the  n  eanest  member  of  society,  if  he  is 
but  religious  and  devout,  to  be  as  essentially  useful, 
both  to  individuals  aid  to  the  community,  as  those  that 
fil!  tilt  highest  and  n  ost  active  stations  of  life.  From 
the  deepest  solitute,  and  from  the  humblest  cell,  his 
prayers  may  reach  the  throne  of  God  ;  may  there  touch 
oiic  of  those  celestial  springs  that  set  the  world 
in  motion  ;  may  be  among  the  reasons  that  in- 
duce the  Almighty  to  give   a  new  turn  to  the  great 

Ac;.s  iii.  6. 


SERMON  XXXV.  445 

wheels  of  the  universe,  and  to  rescue  individuals,  fami- 
lies, and  empires,  from  destruction.  In)proh;iI)k-,  and 
even  ridiculous,  as  this  may  seem  to  the  jjrofound  rca- 
soners  of  this  world,  the  Scriptures,  both  of  the  Old 
and  New  Testament,  are  full  of  the  powerful  preva- 
lence and  astonishing  effects  of  prayer  ;  and  unless  we 
absolutely  renounce  all  faith  in  the  Gospel,  and  all  con- 
fidence in  the  promises  of  Christ,  we  must  admit  the 
truth  of  this  doctrine  ;  Ave  must  acknowledge,  that 
*'  the  effectual  fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man," 
either  for  himself,  or  for  others,  "  availeth  muclr*." 

Let  then,  every  sincere  Christian,  unmoved  by  the 
cavils  of  the  sophist,  or  the  insults  of  the  scoriitrr, 
steadily  and  resolutely  persevere  in  that  most  benevo- 
lent office  of  INTERCEDING  for  all  mankind.  Let 
him  beseech  the  great  Sovereign  of  the  Universe  to 
enlighten  the  ignorant,  to  strengthen  the  weak,  to  con- 
firm the  doubtful,  to  convert  the  infidel,  to  reclaim  the 
profligate,  to  soften  the  unmerciful,  to  restrain  the  vio- 
lent and  vindictive,  to  redress  the  injured  and  op- 
pressed, to  protect  the  innocent ;  to  reconcile  the  in- 
terests and  calm  the  passions  of  contending  individu- 
als and  hostile  nations  ;  to  avert  from  this  hitherto 
favored  land  those  bitter  evils  with  which  other  coun- 
tries are  now  so  cruelly  desolated  and  overwhelmed  ; 
to  direct  the  councils  and  prosper  the  just  designs  of 
those  whom  Providence  has  set  over  us  ;  to  unite  the 
hearts  of  those  they  govern,  as  the  heart  of  one  man, 
in  sentiments  of  Christian  charity,  and  constitutional 
obedience.  Let  him  implore,  in  fine,  (as  he  naturally 
will)  the  pecular  blessing  of  the  Almighty  on  those  he 
holds  most  dear;  that,  as  our  Liturgy  very  sublimely 
expresses  it,  "through  his  most  mighty  protection, 
"  both  here  and  ever,  they  may  be  preserved  both  in 
"  body  and  soul ;  and  that  he  being  their  ruler  and 
"  guide,  they  may  so  pass  through  things  temporal  as 
*'  finally  to  lose  not  the  things  that  are  eternal." 

*  James  v.  16. 
riNIS. 


'^  '^M 


'.  ^. 


■^'i.'V^'' 


Wr   ,.  •■'' 


